Beat the Horse
by PureAsDrivenSnow
Summary: My take on another Bellatrix and Hermione fanfic. Not as bloody of some of the rest but still holds a dark side. Follows true up until the end of DH. Rated M for a reason, ya'll know the reason.
1. Chapter 1

_Dear Bella,_

_I'll never be able to forgive myself for having let you get under my skin. It was the wrong thing to do, I know but there is something so beautifully disastrous about you, that I find myself unable to keep from wanting more._

_It didn't start out that way, in fact, for years the mere thought of you made my skin prickle and my blood boil._

_It wouldn't be until we had kidnapped you from the Manor that any kind of civil thought about you would begin to form in my stubborn mind._

_I don't know the exact moment those thoughts began to bubble up but eventually, they began to fog the forefront of my mind; making all the hate I knew I should feel toward you, dissipate within my brain cloud._

_Throughout it all, I never gave up hope. There were times where I felt I should; for I was sure we wouldn't make it out alive but at the last moment, always the last moment, we pulled through and the bond between the three of us tightened, making us, what I thought to be, an impenetrable force._

_When Ron had left, that force had been shattered and it had shaken me to my very core. I had always expected the Trio to break at the hands of an outsider; never did I think it would be one of us to destroy the bond. However, once he found his way back and everything had finally resolved itself, I found said bond to be stronger than ever; I felt closer to my partners in crime and my two best friends, then I ever thought possible._

_We were tested at that very moment; I'll never forget the pain we all suffered, or where the scars on our bodies came from; mostly because they came from you and your crew. You are everything I should hate, everything I should strive to be better than and pride myself on knowing that I am. But then I see you and I know what you could truly be. You don't realize it but your love and your yearning to leave it all behind, to start over, swims in the depths of your black eyes. I just want to let you know, that even though I should live to see you die, I'll be waiting for the light to turn on in your eyes._

_`-Sincerely, Hermione G. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from the stories I write about it.**

**(Recap of DH from Hermione's POV. The story will change eventually.)**

**(There are slight modifications in the past, to fit this story.)**

**(This might get a little tedious if you have read/seen the movie.)**

**(I'm sorry but this recap is necessary.)**

**:) **

I must have fallen asleep at our dinner table because the next thing I know, Harry is shaking me awake.

"Hermione, wake up. It's time to leave…" he said quietly, retrieving his hand from my shoulder once I started to stir. I had my arms crossed over _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_; I remember I had stayed up considerably later than both Ron and Harry. I needed alone time, I needed to do something that made me feel normal again; like reading. My hair was in tangles and my eyes fought to stay closed but I forced myself up nonetheless and stumbled around our tent, replacing all that had been taken out of my bag. Ron, Harry told me, was already outside waiting and that he would be joining him. He gave me five minutes.

We really didn't have a plan yet, there was only the regular Horcrux hunt and the nightly camp set up. Other than that, we wandered aimlessly, hoping something would push us in the right direction. Every day, the tension between the three of us got thicker, I knew it was only a matter of time before one of us would snap; but mostly, I feel it was due to the locket we were forced to wear for hours at a time. It changed you, that locket…It was soul damaging, there was no escaping the anger and fear you felt while wearing it, until you were given the opportunity to pass it on.

I threw my hair into a low ponytail and applied my jacket, ready as ever to live through another day; another day without our friends, without our families and with the dawning knowledge that everything we had been doing could be the end of all of us. There was no knowing for sure. It was a game of chance everyday; the best thing any of us could do, was trust our gut instincts and believe that Professor Dumbledore knew what he was doing all along.

The morning air was crisp as it forced my senses awake. The gentle breeze blew through my layers, causing goosebumps to rise up on my skin. But it was nice, the cold temperature and the way my body reacted to it, assured me that I was still alive. I held the little bag around my neck, where it rested nicely on my chest; no one would think to look there.

Ron and Harry started on the tent; it only took moments to take it down, seeing as they used magic; that too would go into my bag.

"Ready?" Harry asked quietly, both Ron and I nodded and after we had rid our camp of any human presence, we took hold of each other's hands and with an echoing _pop!_ We apparated from the forest.

We landed in yet, another forest type terrain but this one was very dry and cold. The air was still and freezing and I couldn't help but remember my favorite spot in the Gryffindor common room; where the fire in the fireplace always burned, swallowing the room in a comfortable heat. My skin prickled again, the coldness running up my back and wrapping around my exposed neck. I pulled my shoulder up, hoping to shield the temperature from my naked skin.

"Shall we set up camp?" I asked hopefully. Ron closed the distance between us, placing his hands on my shoulders and flashing me a weak smile, a smile I could only relate too well with. I mirrored it, knowing that would be enough for him. I took the bag from around my neck and together we pulled out our tent; Harry walked around us in a wide circle, casting the heaviest protection spells he could think of; this would muffle any sound we might make, and shield us from any passersby that might stumble though this part of the woods.

After that we began another day of endless research, unhelpful clues and silent terror.

I'm unsure how the hours in the day went by. I don't remember what we did to fill them. Most of the time, we were silent in our own doings. Ron would listen to the radio, hoping to find any kind of news related to the events happening outside of our tent. Most of the time, the only thing you could hear was static, which I knew drove Harry crazy. He kept quiet about it though, we both knew it was the only thing that comforted Ron, which indirectly comforted me. Harry would sit and think, completely forgetting about his surroundings; this journey, Ron and I both knew, was beginning to swallow him whole.

I on the other hand, would read. I had packed a few important books I thought to be helpful and every day I would pour over them, however, finding nothing useful except in the one book I was given to by Professor Dumbledore after he died. I had told both Harry and Ron about the symbol found randomly throughout the children's book but we had no other information about what it could mean or where it had come from. Harry had seen it on Luna's father's necklace at the wedding so many months ago. Harry thought we should visit him, I thought it to be too dangerous.

A few weeks had passed. Nothing changed except the one afternoon where I had forced Harry to give me the locket. He had been wearing it for hours and I could tell it was putting him in a foul mood. I had walked away from him, placing the necklace around my own neck for a change. That's when I saw a small group known as Snatchers for the first time. I held still, right on the boundaries of our magical concealing bubble. I didn't know exactly what they were at the time but I felt, deep in my stomach, that they were no good and definitely worked close with your kind. Fortunately, I went unnoticed but I stood face to face with one of the beaten men, I knew he could smell me in the air. They knew someone was close, how could I have been so stupid as to spray myself with perfume? I should have known better. I felt now, they would know what to look for. In some small way, we had been found out and as before, we were walking glass, now it felt as though we were stumbling over eggshells.

What else was there to do? After my invisible encounter with one of the Snatchers, I knew there was only so much time left before we were found out, or until someone close to us was killed. There was no more time, we had to start acting.

So, we visited Luna's father, the only good to come of it was the figuring outs of the Deathly Hallows. It ended in catastrophe, mind you. But you would already know that. For, it was your crew that had destroyed _Xenophilius Lovegood's home. My heart ached for him; his actions were one of desperation; losing a child must be the worst kind of pain for a parent. However, this meant there was yet another task on the ever growing list of "Things To Accomplish Before The Dark Lord Takes Over"._

_I was worried this might be something we would never achieve. We hadn't the faintest clue of Luna's whereabouts and at the time, I thought there to be a good chance that she was dead. But, in a matter of weeks, we would find her and to our surprise, she would be just fine. _

That night was the worst of them all, worse that having "mudblood" carved into my arm, worse than the death that would follow in the months ahead. For, that night was the night the Trio had broken. It was all due to that damn locket! I screamed at Ron to take it off but in his anger he merely shoved me away; something Ron would never do in any other circumstance.

They were at each other's throats; there was nothing I could say to get them off one another. I was powerless. I don't blame them, I felt it too. The sadness, the worry and most of all, the loss but we had to be strong; the position we were currently in was not forever, I had to remind myself. We were fighting for something bigger than ourselves, we had to keep pushing, otherwise, everything we had fought for up to this point would be meaningless.

He left us that night and I know now that it was only out of pure stubbornness. He had to protect his dignity, I understand that but I'll never forgive him for it.

It was now only Harry and myself. Only the two of us were left to figure it all out, I told him we could do it; there was nothing we couldn't do but inside I felt my as though my whole world was falling to pieces, mainly because it quite literally was…

I sat at the foot of a tree, trying to keep my hands warm next to a dying fire. I'm sure I had been there for hours, thinking of Ron and hoping he was somewhere warm and safe. Harry came from the tent; I heard his footsteps break the frozen twigs and grass as he made his way over to me. As he took a seat, he let his weight gently press against my side. It was nice, feeling another body next to my own, especially one filled with such deep emotional connection. I let my eyes fall to the forest floor, not really seeing anything.

"He'll be back, Hermione. I'm sure the git has realized he was wrong all along…" Harry says stubbornly. I flash him an irritated look but know he feels almost as bad as I do, Ron was his best mate.

Harry and I would grow closer than ever without Ron in the picture. I'd decided Harry was right; it was time to go to Godric's Hollow. Now that we were a mere pair, we would have to work twice as hard and Harry's birthplace I felt held the majority of our answers.

I was both right and wrong; we uncovered a secret about a most famous Bathilda Bagshot and almost lost our lives in the process. I have to say, keeping me away from her and Harry's conversation was very sly indeed. I tip my hat to your Lord for that one.

In our struggle to keep ourselves breathing and outside of the enormous snake's belly, Harry's wand broke. It was an accident but at that moment, I knew no amount of "I'm sorry" would fix it.

I'm not sure how the next part plays out, all I know, is that the next morning Harry is walking back to camp, sopping wet and with Ron. Both of them are smiling, like nothing happened…like everything is fine again.

My head is whirling and I try to get them to explain to me what happened but nothing they say is coming out clear. All they tell me is that they destroyed the Horcrux. I'm still livid. Ron expects me to fall back into his arms but after that night, something in me broke. I thought I'd never be able to live without him. I loved him, he was my forever; but he pushed me away and walked out, showing me for the first time, his true colors. I know the locket was to blame but he let it get to him, he let it take hold and snuff out who he really was. He explained to me the little ball of light, floating straight to the heart in his chest; it was sweet but I did not find it surprising, I knew he still cared for me; loved me still as I used to love him.

In his hands he carried a sword, one I had only heard about, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry hurriedly explained how he had come to obtain the sword, for a second time I might add. He told Ron and I about the doe he had seen, it led him to the sword he said. It was a patronus, though he did not know whose…none of us did. Harry said his mother's patronus had been a doe but all of us knew it impossible for her patronus to still be living.

That's when we heard them coming. The snatchers. We grabbed what we could and ran as fast as our legs would let us. Snatchers are quite dumb, so the curses that they threw at us were poorly aimed and terrible pronounced. As we sped through the trees, with them on our tails, we fought back. We had only used a handful of defensive spells but the ones we known were plenty. Something I learned quite quickly is that it is no easy task to fight, run and defend all while your enemy is behind you.

It was a lost cause; we were surrounded, so I did the first thing I could think of. I warped Harry's face. It was all I could come up with in the few seconds of freedom that was left to us. The snatchers took our wands, took my bag and told us we would be making a special stop. In the beginning, I was more terrified than I have ever been. I feel I concealed it well but once we got to the Manor and they took Ron and Harry from me, I couldn't find the strength to hold my walls up.

That's when you come in.

I'm trying not to shake, trying to be like the brave Gryffindor I knew I was but I know your history. Everyone in the wizarding world knows about you and how you strive off torture. Your black eyes find me, outwardly spilling disgust. They all watch as you accuse me of stealing from you. You are hysterical and I am petrified.

I'm pressed against the wall, with you only centimeters from my face. Your hot breath smells of cigarettes and some strange type of alcohol as it slips from your lips and into my nose. You whisper into my ear, telling me how you want to have a chat, girl to girl. That's when everyone leaves, we are alone and this is the moment where I know it is all over. I will be dead after tonight, how could it be possible for you to leave me alive? I'm a mudblood, something so disgusting to you, I'm sure there are no words for it.

I've never felt the Cruciatus curse before but that night, I experienced to the point of insanity; or right on its brink. If I had known otherwise, I would have said you weren't trying, that it could be so much worse. And as I cried and begged for you to stop, through the glossy sheen over my eyes, I saw your own go wide with regret. It couldn't be though, how could you of all people care about something as repulsive as me? In those eyes, I saw every secret and even though you dug your dagger deep into the flesh on my arm, marking me for life, I knew it was halfhearted. Through all of that physical pain you put me through, there was something that came along with it; apprehension.

Your weight was heavy on my chest, nothing like Harry's, which was light and comforting. Your thighs cover my sides and with each breath accusation that tears from your throat, they squeeze tighter. Your hair comes down in one black sheet, shielding the both of us from the rest of the world. Behind your maniacal black hair and your bitter breath, through my screams of terror and hopeful pleas; you close your eyes and lean in, your lips almost touching mine now. There is no room to turn my face from yours and I must admit, I was too afraid of the consequences if I had and it offended you, so I stayed put and I too closed my eyes.

For a moment, the only sounds are our breathing, so off rhythm from each other. Then your voice fills the silence, it is fractured and worn but I can't help but think that your quiet speaking voice is quite sexy. That was odd for me and it would take awhile to admit it to myself.

"Help me…" you whisper and my eyes go wide, finding yours. Help you? Help you from what? Why would you think I would help you, when you've got me pinned to the floor with "mudblood" carved into my arm? When you've killed so many people and tortured so many of my friends?

"Please…."

Oh...


	3. Chapter 3

**(Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. I must admit, I plan nothing.)**

**(When I write, I create as I go…so, I too am unsure of how this story will turn out)**

**(I hope it is good though.)**

**(Also, I got a few bits jumbled. I now know that Ron was with Hermione and Harry when visiting Luna's father. I also know that after they escape is when they get attacked by Snatchers. I'm sorry for the mix up; however, it seemed to work out fine.)**

**:P**

My face is wet and stingy from the tears you've pulled out of me. I look up to you and my stomach flips; I'm trying to put the pieces together in my mind but you have given me almost nothing to work off.

"What?" I whisper back through a tight throat. I can't help it; I turn my head toward the staircase, the one that leads down to the cellar; the one holding both Ron and Harry. I can hear him yelling for me, he is so afraid…

Your fingers are gentle but your nails dig into the soft flesh on my cheeks and force my face back toward your own.

"Granger, is it?" you ask quietly, your head slightly tilted to the side. I can smell your hair; it smells of stale cigarettes and …roses? The soft curls tickle my ear; I want to brush them out of the way but you've got my arms spread out at my sides. I nod to your question, not wanting to keep you waiting.

I didn't think it possible for us to get any closer but you've managed to prove me wrong. You lean in, your breasts almost falling into my face and your lips graze the side of cheek.

"If you can manage to escape, take me with you…I have no time to explain now." Your voice is crackly, probably from all the screaming you've been doing.

I have no answer for you this time, my mind has drawn a blank and I am in too much pain to think that far ahead. That's when I hear footsteps. Both of us turn to the staircase, our eyes going wide for two separate reasons. Somehow, Harry and Ron have managed to break out.

"Let her go! Expelliarmus!" Ron yells and you are thrust off me, your wand flying out of your hand. It's a reflex, I reach out as it falls and I catch it in my hand; pushing myself onto weak legs. I'm trying to get as far away as I can from you. I stumble toward Ron who makes a B line straight for me. In an instant, we are surrounded. All that have left us, to give us time alone have returned and spells are flying in every direction. Flashes of red and green light whizz by me but I feel Ron's sweaty hands and my nerves begin to settle.

"Stupefy!" Harry yells, shooting Lucius Malfoy across the entirety of the room. I can hear you cackling again and now I know it is all for show.

"Stupid, Mudbloods! You think you can escape the Dark Lord!" You roar, as you charge toward us. I'm huddled on the floor my Ron's feet, too weak to keep on my feet. I see Dobby standing on the railing behind Harry. He's somehow managed to obtain a wand. I look around and my eyes fall on Narcissa Malfoy; her hands are nervously picking at her fingers; Dobby's has stolen Narcissa's wand! This is my conclusion before my vision fills with the frills of your black dress. You are mere yards from me and my friends; your face twisted into a kind of psychotic rage but your eyes tell me that you are wondering if I will help you. I think on it. My first answer is no, how could I? But how could I not? Refusing someone who has so blatantly asked for help is so unlike me, no matter how vile they are. Deep down, I feel everyone has the potential to change, whether it is for better or for worse.

But how could I manage such a risky act? It won't go unnoticed, I know that and if I succeed, what will I tell Ron and Harry?

They won't understand. They never have; they'll think my helping you was like my determination to form _S.P.E.W, _illogical and senseless but this time, they'll second guess my intuition and my sanity; which has always been in fine working order, might I add.

"Stop!" You yell, demanding the attention of the room. All is quiet as every pair of eyes is on you. You are smiling and pointing the tip of your bloody dagger at me.

"Call him, Lucius!" you say, your voice rising higher with each word. I can almost feel the apprehension in your body. You are just as terrified as the rest of us; it makes me wonder what Voldemort has done to you. He must have put you through something that not even the Great Bellatrix LeStrange could handle. Then I wonder, maybe this is the reason you have turned out the way you have.

Lucius steps forward. He is determined to prove he is not a coward; but we all know different. I'm surprised we haven't apparated yet; I wish we would have; then it would be out of my control, choosing whether or not I should take you or leave you.

However, at this point in time, I feel it is safe to say that Dobby was right in delaying our departure.

But at the time, I knew that with each passing second, we were falling closer toward our death.

Lucius pulls at his sleeve, revealing for the first time, the Dark Mark that has been branded on the underside of his left arm. He acts as though he is revealing some deep, dark secret that no one could have guessed about him. He is so pretentious. His hand hovers above the mark, delaying for as long as it can until it comes time to actually follow through with the calling.

"Now, Dobby!" Harry yells, grabbing onto the small elf, who has made a link to Ron. Ron grabs my shoulder and I see you…

It only takes me a millisecond to decide. My arm juts out and our hands meet at the halfway mark. You are pulled into me as we are sucked into nothingness. Your weight is heavy against my chest but it does not feel like it did in the beginning. You are not trying to kill me this time; in those few moments, all we feel is each other and I can't help but notice how perfect you fit right next to me.

It disturbs me, those thoughts. I shouldn't be thinking like that. I am not the type to find pleasure is pain, nor am I the type to find older women sexually attractive. I am not that type at all; and I would tie myself down to my old persona until many months later, when I found I could no longer keep who I really was contained.

We landed on the beach of Shell Cottage. It was a "lonely and beautiful" place; it held a familiarity that was difficult for me to place. At the time, it stood for "safe haven" but now that you were with us, I was unsure of how long it would remain that way.

My eyes adjusted to the strange light. The sky was bright and blue, with wisps of fluffy white clouds scattered throughout; the ground was soft and cool and so very lumpy. I was lying on my back in the sand, my arms wrapped around a most curious figure. Your hair fell across my chest and your head rested lightly right on my stomach, which was rising and falling with steady and heavy breaths. That moment, for me, was one of pure peacefulness. I had yet to think of anything else but the facts that my friends and I were both alive and for the most part, unharmed; and then there was you. I had done it, I had taken the risk and I now had to face the consequences; which I guessed would come in many different forms.

I heard the yelling before I saw the fighting.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron yelled, scrambling toward me and kicking up sand in the process. He yanked at my arm and heaved me onto my feet. Your weight was gone and it left both of us cold and confused. You sat on your knees, unsure of what to say or how to act; I remember you telling me later on, that this day was the first that you had ever spilled your secrets to anyone. You had said it was the hardest day of your life. That was difficult for me to believe, until I had learned of your true story.

"Ron, grab her!" Harry yelled, running over to me.

"You have her wand, don't you?" he asked eagerly, his eyes wide with fright behind his cracked glasses. Honestly, could he never keep them in one solid piece? I nodded but did not retrieve it from my jacket pocket.

"Well, give it to me, Hermione!" Harry said, obviously losing his patients. I hesitated but did not comply. I saw Ron grab at you and pull you to your feet. I know how easy it would have been for you to break him in two, even without a wand but you cooperated nicely, allowing his hands to roam your body and push and pull at you in whatever way he saw fit.

"Ron, don't!" I said, the words escaping my mouth before I could even think to swallow them.

"What? Hermione, have you gone mad?" Harry asked, stepping in front of me.

"Yeah, what're you playing at?" Ron replied, tightening his grip on you. He was not gentle and I could tell you too were beginning to lose your patients.

"It's not what you think, you guys. I don't think she's going to hurt us…" I said, walking to you with a new found confidence. You were playing on my territory now. For, it was I that held onto the next stepping stone in your life; I knew you were wondering where it was that I would place it, which direction I would force you.

"Hermione, this is Bellatrix Lestrange!" Ron shouts at me. His knuckles have turned white over the skin on his hands; this is how tight he holds you.

I take another confident step closer; I feel you won't hurt me, even if you had the chance to.

"Mrs. Lestrange, why did you ask me to help you?" I mutter. Ron's grip loosens just enough for you to pull free. All is quiet while we wait for your response but Harry has pulled out his own wand and has it directed straight at you.

I hold my breath in anticipation and you sigh a breath of relief…


	4. Chapter 4

**(Love the reviews! Thank you so much. Also, if any of you have any ideas, let me know!)**

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked, finally lowering his wand arm.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of how to answer. I understood, I was putting you on the spotlight but I knew neither of us had room to put off an explanation.

"She asked for help and you gave it her? You're mental! That's almost like giving help to You-Know-Who…" Ron said bitterly. This was true of course. You were his second in command, his closest Death Eater.

"Why don't we give her a chance to explain?" I asked, keeping my eyes only on you. There was more silence; I could tell you were hesitant on answering me.

"Not in front of them…" you whisper, looking down to the sand.

"Not in front of us? You can't be serious, Hermione. We have to get help. I f someone found out we were harboring a Death Eater-"

"Nothing will happen, Ron." I spat at him. His naivety to every situation we are put in was beginning to dawn on me. However, I knew there was a fair chance you could be lying, that we were still in great danger but I had to see for myself, I had to make sure.

"And if something does happen, then what?" Harry asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "This is insane. She's killed so many of us already. What about Neville's parents? What about Sirius, Hermione? Do they not matter? Even if she has changed for the better, she's still done unforgiveable things…" Harry said, walking over to me.

He always plays the guilt card. And now that your wrong doings have resurfaced from the lips of The Chosen One, the Man in Charge, I'm unsure of how much help I'll be allowed to give you. Probably none if you don't start explaining. They'll probably have you taken away and locked up…if you're lucky.

"I know, Harry. You don't have to remind me. I know what she's done but don't you think it wrong to keep help from someone who's asked for it? No matter how they've acted in the past?" I ask stubbornly.

"Hermione, this is ridiculous. We should turn her in. Let's go back to the cottage, we can owl someone there." Ron states, grabbing onto your arm yet again. Harry nods and returns his wand to his hand, pointing it at you as Ron steers you away.

You don't fight them, that is how I know you are sincere. You allow them to push at you, all the while being forced into an unknown place.

I lag behind, walking slowly through the sand. It spills into my shoes, weighing me down even more. We pass through the gated fence and push ourselves up the small incline. The cottage looks abandoned; the curtains on the windows are pulled shut and as we make our way to the front steps, an air of defeat takes over. You glace back at me, quick and uncertain. Not even long enough for me to read what is now unhidden on your face.

Ron shoulders the door open. No one is there, the place is dark and slightly dank; as though it has been unoccupied and without fresh air for months.

"That's odd; Bill said he'd be here…" Ron says quietly, venturing further into his older brother's home. "He'll be back soon, I'm sure of it." He reassures himself. He leads you to the small kitchen. Harry and I follow and he helps while Ron sits you in a chair.

"I'll find some rope. Harry, stay here with her. She won't be able to free herself out of old Muggle restraints." Ron says, walking from the kitchen and disappearing behind the corner. I can hear his heavy footsteps walk up the length of the staircase. They complain with each shifting of his weight.

You look up at me. I look away; those eyes tell me too much. You play the guilt card so much better than Harry.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's get your arm cleaned up." Harry says to me. I look down and notice that my arm is still bleeding. It has also formed a slight blue bruise around the edges of your mark. He walks over to the sink, dampening a cloth under warm water.

"Can I trust you to stay put?" I ask you. You look up from your hands; and nod. Without your wand and without the eyes of your cronies, you are as weak as the rest of us. I've learned you to be the oldest of your sisters and under your Death Eater mask, you look to be. But now, as I watch you sit and fiddle with your hands, your hair in wild tangles around your face, you seem as young and as innocent as a child. I cannot help but want to keep you safe; but I cannot ignore the logical side of my mind that tells me this is all a hoax.

I close the distance between Harry and myself. He gently takes my arm in his hands, dabbing away at the dried blood and applying pressure to wound in hopes to stop the bleeding.

"Harry, I'm not trying to make excuses for her. But she asked me for help. What am I to do? What if she isn't lying? We could use her as a spy, Harry!" I whisper as quickly as I can. I need his support; I know Ron will never approve of you. No matter how much he says he loves me, I know he would never do this for me.

Harry keeps his eyes on my arm, a heavy breath released through his nose.

"I don't know, Hermione. It feels so wrong. Everything she has done to us. All I see is a monster; I don't know how I'd be able to forgive her for what she has done." He says, equally as quiet.

"She's not asking you for forgiveness, Harry. All she is asking for is help. You of all people should be on my side about this." I reply. I have done it. In those words, I have saved your life. Harry is not the type to be called out. He is all for proving himself.

He looks up to me with hard eyes, the green of them darker than ever.

He ties the cloth around my arm and lets it drop. I can tell he is torn; to do right or to what is right. It was a difficult decision for me as well; I do not blame him for his hesitance.

"What about Ron?" harry asks. I can't help but smile. It is small and hardly noticeable.

"Ron will comply once he knows you are on board." I say somewhat harshly. Harry nods ever so slight. He knows this is true.

"Fine. We'll hear her out but if anything sounds suspicious…" he warns. I nod and grab the fingers on his hand. I squeeze them, showing him my thanks.

He walks passed me and takes a seat the far end of the table, wanting to keep his distance from you.

I pull from a random drawer, another cloth. I wet it under the tap and walk it over to you.

My reaction is to wipe your face of dirt but before the cloth can touch your skin, your hand juts out, lightly catching my wrist.

"Thank you…" you say, taking the wet cloth from me. My face flushes as I take a seat at the chair opposite you, next to Harry.

We wait for Ron; I can hear him shuffling in an upstairs room. A door slams and his footsteps strain the stairs for a second time.

Wrapped around his shoulder in a tangled heap, was a large mess of rope.

"Thought I'd never find any…" he says, he has a faint smile on his face; like tying you up and keeping you hostage is a treat that should be savored. My brow furrows. I don't like the look he gives you. We watch him walk to you, pulling at your chair so it sits in the center, between the kitchen and the living room. You hold your head high; your hands limp in your lap. Both Harry and I try to keep our eyes off this scene. We can feel the fear coursing through Ron, it makes us uncomfortable. He seems unpredictable; your presence strains us all but for some reason it affects Ron the most. No one speaks; the only sounds are Ron's heavy breathing and the ear shattering screech of wood on wood as he drags the chair on.

Finally, he is happy where he has placed you and lets the rope drop from his shoulder. It lands in his hands and hits the floor with a soft thud.

"I bet you're loving this." He says through concentrated breaths. He wraps the majority of the rope around your middle, so that your core is tied tightly to the chair. He cuts the rest into four separate pieces. One piece for each limb.

"How's it feel to be on the other end of the wand?" Ron asks, after he has successfully tied you up. He thinks he is being witty, I find his comment to be embarrassing and quite assuming. I doubt this is the first time you have been held against your will; I feel this is not the first time someone has pointed a wand at you with sincere threat.

"Actually, I am quite used to this…" You reply.

Ron huffs and takes the chair opposite me, next to Harry.

"What do you expect we do now, Ron?" I ask flatly. I look to Harry who has kept his eyes pinned to the table top; a hand cradling his head.

Ron shrugs. "Wait for Bill, I spose. Should be back soon enough." He says, crossing his legs. He puts his hands behind his back and sighs a breath of relief. He feels safe now. Now that he's in his brother's home, now that he can prove to our friends and family that we've actually done something by tying you up and keeping you prisoner.

I won't say that I disagree with Ron for wanting to restrain you. It makes us all feel better but the way he went about it…

Something is growing inside of him and with each passing day, it gets bigger and more angry. He's not the Ron I remember, the Ron I loved. He came back different, the kind of different that stays with you.

"Well…" I say after a few moments of silence. "Since we have to wait anyway…might as well let her explain." I try. Harry lifts his head up, his eyes on me. He probably thought he would be the one to break it to Ron, because it always has to be him; I mean, the whole world and its fate depends on him and him alone, right?

Ron lowers his hands, eyes slightly bulged.

"Explain what, exactly?" he says, growing angry. He cannot fathom why I would even think to think about wanting to help out a former Death Eater, let alone one of your status.

I shrug back, trying to find a decent reason. The silence is growing and I feel the window to my opportunity is drastically getting smaller. But then…

"What about Sirus?" I say, eagerly. Harry's brow pins together.

"What about him?" Harry asks curiously. He is not defending Ron; I can tell he is only interested in what I have to say about his former god father.

I turn to him, needing him to understand.

"Do you remember when you found out about Sirius, Harry? You were so angry when you thought he had been the one to tell You-Know-Who about your parents' whereabouts. You were set on killing him, Harry…do you remember?"

I hoped you were listening. I was unsure if talking about your cousin would hurt you in any way. I assumed it wouldn't, seeing as you killed him so mercilessly. And even though I was defending you, I wanted to show you just how much pain you had caused when you took Sirius away from us.

Harry nods, still not following. I continue: "But then, that night in the Shrieking Shack, when he explained to you that he was innocent. You let him explain, Harry, you gave him a chance. Why is this any different?" I hadn't realized it until after I was done speaking, that my hands were clamped together in a tight ball. I was so anxious for you; why was that, Bella? Why was I so adamant on helping you? Why did I care so much? I should have felt like Ron did. I should have wanted to watch them take you away but something about you got to me. You intrigue me, Bella. Like no other ever has.

"It's different because we've _seen_ her kill, Hermione! She isn't innocent and she deserves no sympathy!" Ron roars, getting up from his chair. I jump, slightly taken aback at his outburst. He walks passed us in a fit of rage and to the front door of the cottage. The door slams behind him; plummeting the room back into an awkward silence.

"He's right, Hermione. She isn't innocent…" Harry confirms. Letting his head fall back into his hands. I reach out and grab his shirt sleeve. "But what if she is, Harry? Things aren't always what they seem…"


	5. Chapter 5

**(You are all too kind. I thank you for every comment and welcome ideas/thoughts etc.)**

**(By the way, I'm going to try to post a chapter a day, or every two days.)**

**(Not having a life gives me the freedom to do so :P)**

"I should check on Ron." Harry says, pushing himself away from the table.

"Ron will be fine, Harry…" I say. I don't want him to leave. You cannot blame me for feeling a bit unsettled at the thought of being alone with you again.

"Perhaps." Is all he says. He walks passed us and out the front door; the _click_ assures me that we are alone. At that moment, I have nothing to say. I look to my fingers, to my shoes, to the walls and floors; any and everywhere except your face.

"Thank you…" you say, yet again. I turn my head toward your voice but my eyes stay locked on your boots.

"For what?" I mutter; you've sucked the breath out of me, my guess is because I am so afraid of you.

You shrug against your restraints, "For trying; for taking me with you. You haven't any idea what is has been like…" you say weakly. I do not understand; I wish I did but you won't explain anything.

Finally, I look up and instantly wish I hadn't. Those eyes, they still make my stomach flip. My fingertips begin to tingle and my heart begins to pitter. You don't even have to try.

"What happened? Why would you need my help?" I ask finally. I didn't think you would answer so honestly.

"Who else would take a chance on me?" you ask, "Certainly not Ginger" you continue, laughing lightly at the nick name you've given Ron. "You were there, we were alone…Kindness is your Achilles' heel, Granger" you finish.

It hurt, I won't lie. I thought I had been a specific; but it turns out, I was merely a convenience.

"How nice." I reply, picking at my fingers again. "But you're avoiding the question, Lestrange." So, maybe your comment put a damper on my already dampened mood; I was beginning to get impatient with you.

You open your mouth, then close it; one more time. Come on, I know you can do this. Just answer me so that we can move on!

The door slams open, our heads snap over to the sound. It is Bill and his face is contorted into a mix of rage and confusion. His wand pointed straight at you, a spell ready to spill from his lips.

Ron is behind him, his own wand pointed for back up. Where is Harry? Why is he not trying to stop them?

"Stupe-!" Bill yells. I'm out of my chair before I can even think to move.

My wand, more ready than his.

"Stupefy!" I yell; I'm standing before you, forming a wall with my body. I've acted as your personal human shield.

Bill flies backward into Ron and together they topple down the stairs. My hands clasp over my mouth in shock. What have I done? What have _you_ done? You did this; you are making me this way!

I run after them, taking the front steps two at a time until I have landed on the sand. I kneel next to Bill and try to heave him up. He allows it, holding onto me for support. He dusts off his pants and proceeds to lift his younger brother, whose face has turned bright red. He is sporting a colorful bruise on his cheek and his nose is bleeding.

"Ron, I'm so sorry." I say, trying to reach for him. I am sorry, truly. I would have never acted in such a way, had I had control over my own feelings.

He takes a step back, not wanting my hands on him.

"Forget it, Hermione. It's all clear to me now." He says harshly, walking in the opposite direction of me and the cottage.

"Ron, please!" I yell, trying to follow but I feel a pair of strong hands hold me back.

"Leave him, he'll come around." Bill says, steering me back toward the wooden steps. My head falls; Ron is right, what am I thinking? Why is this happening?

Bill looks into his house from the top of the stoop. He sees you; in his eyes there is no sympathy, no understanding. He does not want to hear your excuses.

He leans in and grabs the handle on the door, closing it on you; Closing you off from the rest of the world, leaving you alone to sit and wander within your own mind.

He takes my shoulders firmly in his hands and looks me straight in the eyes.

"Hermione, what is going on? Why is this woman in my house? Are you under a spell?" He's throwing me question after question; allowing no time for me to answer the previous before he spits out the next.

"Where is Harry?" he asks, looking around.

"That is a good question." I respond. "Bill, I know about as much as you do. But I have yet to get any kind of answer out of her. She needed my help, what was I supposed to do?" I ask him. He looks at me a moment longer, his head slowly beginning to shake.

"You say no, Hermione. Sometimes, you just say no." he responds. I do not accept this. He grabs onto my arm, lightly of course. He lifts it so that it is held in between us.

"She did this to you." He says softly, trying to get me to understand. But I do understand; it is them that are having an issue understanding. "Bellatrix Lestrange is a monster, Hermione. There is no changing her. Your decision has left your friends and family exposed…I'm disappointed in you…" he says, letting go of my arm. I look away from my bandage; away from him. What does he know? He has no idea what my friends and I have been through; the things we have seen and lived through. Helping a Death Eater like Bellatrix shouldn't be shocking to any of them. Hypocrites.

Bill opens the door to his cottage, walking slowly inside. I want to follow, to make sure he doesn't try anything with you. Not before you can get your story out. That is all I want, I just want you to be heard; after that, I'll have no power to protect you.

But before I can make it over the threshold, I can hear yet again, another angry voice. This one is female and it is accompanied by a rapidly speaking, male companion of sorts.

"Wait, Fleur!" Harry yells, trying to catch up with a most furious witch.

"Bill!" She screams, stomping up the steps. I pivot away from her, not wanting to get trampled as she storms into the cottage.

"Harry?" I ask; he stops before me, trying to catch his breath.

"It was Ron; he told her what is going on. She's furious, Hermione. But, I don't blame her…" he says to me, walking passed after Fleur. I follow quickly, hoping I still have time to explain the situation but already she is blabbering in French; pointing from Bill, to me and to you. You're just sitting there, not that you've any room to do anything else but I can see a small smile forming on your lips. You try to hide it but it isn't working.

Fleur gestures with her hands, trying to get Bill to understand what she is saying. She is so upset; she doesn't even realize she isn't speaking English.

I step closer to her, placing a brave hand gently on her shoulder. She flinches away, clearly forgetting that she and her husband are not the only two in the room.

"Fleur, please. Let me explain." I try. She's breathing heavy, her cheeks a light pink.

"Oh, sure, 'Ermione." She says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do explain, 'ow zees woman got into my 'ouse!" she yells.

"It was me, Fleur. I brought her here."

Her eyes bulge, unbelieving of me, just likes the rest.

"Why? Why would zou do such a zing?" she asks.

I sigh, feeling this whole thing is getting a bit redundant.

"Because, she asked me to. She needed help." I reply, mirroring her form.

"So, zou just hand out 'elp to anyone 'ou asks?"

I'm so tired, Bella. After all those months of fighting; of wondering and getting nowhere. Of almost dying and losing everyone we love…and then this. The anger that is directed toward me, because of you, it is so draining. I don't know if I'll be able to handle another angry outburst. I have nothing else to say. I'm through. If they won't listen, then there isn't any reason for me to stick around.

My brow drops heavily over my eyes; my jaw set. I push passed Fleur, passed Harry and Bill, to the table in the kitchen. That is where Ron left the knife he used to cut up your rope restraints. I grab it and march toward you, dropping to my knees. I cut quickly at the rope knots, starting first with the ones tied around your ankles. Everyone watches in silence, unsure of how to act or what it is that I am doing. I do not stop, nor do I explain; because surely, they are uninterested in an explanation.

Your legs are now free and soon, your hands will be too. I start at your middle, careful not to jab you with the point of the blade as I cut quickly at the braids of rope.

"Hermione, what're-" Harry tries. I flash him an irritated look, he does not proceed.

There, you are free. I stand straight and back away. I could feel your eyes on me the whole time, warming my skin from head to toe. You say nothing as you stand and brush off your dress of pieces of rope. I turn to Harry, tossing him the knife. It fumbles through his fingers before he can finally get a solid grip.

"Come on." I say to you, grabbing your wrist. Your brow lifts in interest but you follow silently.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" Harry asks, bewildered. I turn on my heel, eyes set to kill.

"I'm helping, Harry, that is what I am doing!" I yell, turning from him and the rest of them. I pass over the threshold, with you trailing behind.

Bill, I can hear, runs forward after Fleur, who has raised her wand toward your turned back.

I catch a glimpse from over my shoulder. I turn and step before you, once again blocking you from them.

"Don't, Fleur." I say coldly.

"And eef I do?" she spits back, "Zen wat?". I raise my wand, low but sure.

"Stupefy…" I whisper and watch as she is thrust back, into Bill.

I lead you down the rickety front steps and quickly make toward the beach. The wind has picked up, blowing through my hair and kicking sand into my face.

"Where are you taking me?" you asks above the howling.

"Somewhere _not_ in front of them!" I yell back, pulling you close to my side.


	6. Chapter 6

**(I am so happy for all of the reviews.)**

**(I know I said I would update often but I may take my time on the following chapters.)**

**(For your reading pleasures and for the sake of the story, of course.)**

I could feel your apprehension. I could tell that you wanted to leave. You wanted to leave the moment we landed on the shore.

Perhaps I read too much in your call for help; I only wanted to do right. Your wrist slips from my grip. I notice that you had pulled away with gentle force; I turn my head, I see you from the corner of my eye, watching me watch you. I turn, hoping I wasn't too obvious.

"Where are we going, dear?" you ask over the wind. It has calmed some but not entirely. _Dear?_ Strange.

"I'm not sure, yet…" I reply, continuing on. We stumble some over the uneven terrain; sand kicking up into the wind as we walk. I shield my face from the diminutive pieces of gravel and turn to climb a small slope. I feel you are not happy with this decision, you being dressed in heeled boots and all.

When I reach the top, I turn to find you huffing to catch up. I hold out my hand, hoping you'll take the offer. You don't of course, so I pull back. You squint against the wind and also, what I guess to be, my small helpful gesture.

You struggle for a moment, trying hard to catch your breath; it was only a small hill, something I conquered with ease.

You're looking around, unfamiliar with your surroundings; I can tell you are pleased with this. I wonder why.

I look to my left and see a healthy beach tree about fifteen meters away, swaying calmly on a drop off.

I walk toward it; you follow in silence. You are particularly patient, more so than I would have expected given the circumstances of, well, everything.

I lean against the tree and allow my knees to give in, sliding down the trunk and settling into the soft grass that is nestled against the tree's foot. I watch as you pull up the hem of your dress and follow as I did. Your fingers absentmindedly twist the soft blades of lush grass; I watch you in silence, unsure of what to say next.

Finding something less distracting than you, I look up to the sky. What was a bright blue, has now casted over with light grey clouds; threatening to spill rain. The wind has calmed into a light whisper, however, my hair still dances along with it.

"So." You say, breaking the awkward silence. My eyes snap to yours but then quickly shift to your mouth; it took me many weeks before I found the courage to be able to look directly at you; into your eyes, to be exact.

"I don't think I'll be stickin' around much longer. I appreciate all that you've done but my stayin' here, I've noticed, has caused quite the ruckus." You say calmly, brushing a stray lock of black hair from your face.

My first thought was how badly I wanted to hex you; until the words you had spoken were sucked back into your mouth; never to be repeated again.

This has to be why you are not favored amongst most creatures, Bella; you lack common decency. Even now, as I watch you. I see you've left the cottage, finally. No longer are you able to be there, I understand but what about our family? What about our friends? They need you but I see you are trying to leave before they will notice. Only thinking of yourself; but there were others who were sacrificed as well, what about them?

I nod as I try to comprehend; it isn't working very well. This early on, the thought of you leaving wasn't as difficult to process but still difficult, nonetheless.

I'm not sure what exactly it was that you did to me but I knew from the moment you asked for my help, nothing I felt would be the same as before. You were getting to me, fairly quickly too. I wasn't sure in which way yet; at the time, I only knew there was something deeper, something more than you let on.

"Where will you go? They'll kill you if they find you, you know…" I say, unknowingly trying to convince you not to leave.

"Naw, I'll be fine." You reassure, flashing me a quick smile. It isn't working.

"How do you know?" I press, tearing out chunks of grass from the soft soil; this conversation is making me anxious.

You lift a brow, head slightly tilted to the side; you're looking at me now, for what feels like the first time. You're thinking of how to answer, if you should answer. You should, Bella, you owe me that much.

"If all you wanted was to escape, why not just disappear? You wouldn't be the first Death Eater to cower away from You-Know-Who…" I say bravely. I hate that, saying his name like that. I've gotten over my fear; hearing his name does not scare me as it used to. When I hear it being used, I know I am in the right place; for, whoever dares to say his name, is willing to pay the price. Except now, now that his name is bugged. I cannot and will not go to those levels.

You're interested now and the look you're giving me makes my stomach drop and my neck go hot. You look at me through heavily lidded eyes, the ones I refuse to look at; and smile a most sly smile; like I have said something extremely amusing. Have i? I didn't think I was being funny.

"S'that what you think? That wanting to get away from all that nonsense makes me a coward?" you ask simply. Your tone is not threatening; in fact, I am surprised to hear the curiosity in your question; as though my opinion truly matters.

"I never said-" I try but I am cut off. You are eager to explain yourself and I am eager to listen.

"Because, _this_." You say, lifting up the sleeve of your dress to reveal an inky black Dark Mark, "Does not seem like cowardice to me." The corner of your mouth lifts into a small smile. You're wondering how I will react; if the realization will begin to set in and my head will clear. But I never forgot who it was that I was speaking to, or sharing my thoughts with, or even falling for, Bella. I knew all along.

I shrug, as though seeing such marks is a normal everyday occurrence; and as of late, it has been.

"Depends on how you look at it, I guess." I reply, fixing my eyes back onto the wad of grass that is tying itself around my fingers. You are unsatisfied. Your smile fades and your eyes shrink at my "contempt".

"What do you want, then?" you ask bitterly. I am unsure of how to respond. I do not quite understand your question.

"What do you mean?" I ask, needing clarification. "Whoever said I wanted anything?" I say, plopping down the lump of grass and brushing my hands on my knees.

"Well, obviously you aren't satisfied with anythin' I've said." You reply, still with the same icy tone. I mirror it, not quite as afraid of you as I was only hours ago.

"What I _want_, is to know _why_ you needed an out. You've already told me that it wasn't _me_ you needed help from, just that you needed it. Why." There. I'm hoping that will be enough for you, because I'm not too sure how much more blunt I can be.

You cross your arms loosely over the knee that you have propped up and contemplate your answer. You're judging whether telling me is worth your time; you're wondering why you even should. You've promised me nothing and you've gotten what you wanted. If you're going to tell me, you decide I'm going to have to work for it; regardless of the fact that all of my friends are expecting some sort of answer. You know they'll be needing it from me. But can I be honest for a moment? This little game we're playing; it stirs something strange from within my gut. As though, we are sharing in some kind of secret. Like, I'm someone you could potentially confide in; that thought, it makes my palms sweaty.

"You really want to know?" you asks. Your voice is filled with a hidden kind of friendliness; something that feels unnatural to me. But how could you blame me? Before this day, I had only known you to be one thing; insanely cruel. Reflecting on those thoughts, I look down to my bandaged arm. Blood has begun to seep through the layers of the cloth, forming splotched letters to stain in white fabric. You follow my eyes and your own find my fresh wound, the one you had given me. When I look up, our eyes meet. Instantly, I look away, knowing that this time, my reluctance is all too obvious.

"Give it here, dearie…" you whisper. I look to your lips, your full red lips.

"What, my arm?" I ask through a tight throat. You nod slightly, holding out your hand. "And your wand…" you finish. I find this comment slightly amusing. "_My_ wand?" I ask, eyes slightly bulging. You shrug, "You could always give me _my_ wand." You say hopefully. I like this, I feel as though I have some kind of power over you.

With all that had happed, I had totally forgotten about your wand; I kept it hidden away, in a pocket on the inside of my jacket. I knew you wouldn't be brave enough to get that close to me; not on your own accord.

I shake my head slightly; I can tell you were expecting this. However, I hold out my arm and begrudgingly give you my own wand. Your touch is light but firm as you take my wrist and pull me over to you. I'm on my knees, limbs shaking slightly. You've scooted closer, holding my wand with precision. Our faces are less than half a meter away; your breath to me is not as rank as before; I can almost feel it against my flush cheeks.

You place the weapon between your teeth and slowly you begin in unravel the cloth. I look up to you every so often. You're concentrated; I'm eager to see what you will do.

The cloth falls without sound and you take the wand from your teeth, pointing it directly at the slow healing wound on my arm. I can't help but close my eyes; I'm expecting something vicious to shoot from the tip, something like fire or perhaps even death. It is a reaction I should not be blamed for. You notice but continue on; I feel at this moment, there is something you would like to prove to me.

"_Vulnera Sanentur…_" You say in a hushed, sing song voice. I open my eyes; I can feel the cuts slowly fusing together. "_Vulnera Sanentur…_" you say again in the same tone. I look up to you in slight awe, then back down to my arm. There is only a faint scar left; memorabilia, I liked to think. I know this incantation and I wait for you to mutter it for the third time; healing me completely and ridding me of any scar that threatened to remain.

We're lost in this moment, Bella. That was one of my most precious memories; I wonder if it was one of yours as well.

You open your mouth to finish the spell but we are ripped out of our timeless bubble when a fearful voice crashes through it; pulling us back toward the earth and back to our proper places.

Our heads turn toward the sound; it's coming off the shore, down the slope some odd twenty meters away.

The voice is so distance, barely audible from where we are hidden.

"It's Ron." I say quietly. You know that means it is time for me to go; but in my statement, I'm asking if you'll come.

You hand me back my wand and I take it with slightly shaking fingers, "Thank you, by the way…" I mutter. You push yourself onto your feet, dusting off the frills of your dress.

"No thanks necessary. For it was I that gave you that bloody thing…" you say with your hands casually resting on your hips. I nod and take one last glace at the faded word; the scar is light and flat, it fits in perfectly within my pale skin.

My feet are numb from sitting, my knees slightly stiff but as I stand and walk away from our beach tree, the pain is forgotten when I hear a second pair of footsteps following mine.

That night, when I'm lying alone in a spare bedroom of the cottage, I'll be able to reflect on the happenings of the day; what it all meant and what it is that I'm truly beginning to feel. You remember the conversation that would soon come; it was awkward on both ends but we have a while before we have to suffer through it.

I do not respond to Ron's callings for me. I merely follow the sound of his voice; I'm still angry at him but I know what it means when he comes looking for me. He is ready to apologize; Bill was right, he was beginning to come around.

We meet the slope and I turn to you, watching you stumble to a stop before me.

"Stay here. Just until Ron and I have finished speaking. I don't want him to get wound up again." I say with more stiffness than I meant. The thought of dealing with the rest of them is giving me a headache but I know this moment is unavoidable. You cross your arms over your chest and give a slight nod. I know you don't like being directed; you've dealt with that for so long and hearing it from such a young witch probably makes you cringe. But you comply anyway.

I stumble and slide down the loose earth of the slope and land with heavy feet in the sand. Ron, I can see is only a call away but I keep silent, wanting to get as much distance from you and him.

After a few moments, his eyes catch me; his expression transforms from one of concern and worry to one of complete relief.

He nearly sprints when he sees me but the sand, it is too uneven, so he settles with a sloppy jog instead. His arms are tight and heavy as they wrap around my body. I return the hug but with much less fervor.

"Oh, Hermione. When they had told me you'd run off… I didn't know what to think..." he says, trying to get a look into my eyes.

"I was a git, Hermione. It's just, this whole thing. It's beginning to take a toll on me." He says against my ear as he pulls me into another bone breaking hug.

"Yes, you were." I agree, taking a small step back. He is holding me at arm's length, smiling and breathing heavy.

"Can we just forget that whole thing? Come on, supper's ready." He says, trying to avoid the situation at hand. I contemplate his offer.

"Okay." I say with a small smile. He breathes out, more relief. "Let me go get Bellatrix." I say before he can fully wrap his arm around me. His spine stiffens at the sound of your name.

"You mean, she hasn't left yet?" he asks quickly, looking around for you. The way his eyes search and scan; I can't help but tighten my jaw and advert my eyes. "Of course, she's still here, Ron. Where did you expect her to go?" I ask in slight frustration. I really don't want to get into this again but I can't help but I feel I may not have a choice.

"You're the one who wanted to keep her captive…" I point, he shifts his eyes to mine, thoroughly unhappy with my comment.

There is a moments pause. He's thinking, of what? I am unsure. Finally, he turns to me, his mind made and his jaw set.

"Fine. But I want to know what it is she wants. I wanna know why she needed help; and I think it best that she leaves once everything has been said. We're not safe with her around, Hermione. I know you know that." he says. He acts as though he is the king of Knowing What Is Best For His Friends And Family. This is why he left Harry and I in the middle of a dark forest, during a war, in a fit of rage, right?

He's waiting for me to answer, searching my eyes with his own for something that isn't there. Not anymore, anyway.

I say this to keep him calm:

"Fine."

I know it won't take long before you are welcomed into our group. It will be a tedious and perhaps a most treacherous journey but in the mere weeks to follow, you'll be one of us, no longer without a home or without a family; of course, I didn't know this at the time, so every passing minute with you around them, was one of pure nausea.

**oOo**

The walk to the cottage, from the shore, was awkward to say the least. The three of us about ten slow paces away from the next; each of us uncertain of the other. In this moment, I had time to think. I wondered why it was that you agreed to come along. You could have easily mauled me and stolen back your wand, disappearing forever, without ever having explained yourself or your motives. But you didn't and I _knew_ you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself as far as you could from my crowd and more than that if I guessed correctly.

I wondered how everyone would react once they learned about you and your involvement with the lot of us. I couldn't help it, I hadn't seen the Weasley family in months; an image of a furious Molly Weasley flashed before my eyes. I saw another duel, red and green flashes everywhere. My throat tightened against a gag. This whole thing, to me, was more stressful than having to search for Horcruxes. At least with them, I could distract myself from the situation but there was nothing I could do to take my mind off you and the affects that you would inflict on my friends.

Ron's heavy steps beat down on the tired staircase, causing the platforms to bend under his weight. I follow, making less noise and then there is you. The click of your heals against the peeling wood, telling me you are only a pace away.

Ron is at the door, his hand on the cold metal handle. That's when I notice that I have stopped breathing. I may be having a slight panic attack. I know what is waiting for us on the other side of that door. Judgment, prejudice and disapproval, all of which I don't think I can take when coming from my now, only family.

Ron gently presses he shoulder against the door, helping it to open. It swings out, far and wide; revealing a large and expectant group. All eyes on us, each one saying exactly what I feared…


	7. Chapter 7

**(So, a happy ending to this story is being asked of me. I would love one; however, I cannot foresee the future.)**

**(Also! Romance between the two characters will take time.) **

**(So, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy the body of this story.) **

**;D**

I want to go back to our tree. I'm not done being alone with you.

I can feel sweat start to form on my brow; all those eyes, boring into the two of us. They are saying everything that I can't bear to hear.

After struggling for our survival for months; not hearing word from any of our friends and believing the majority of them to be dead or captured; and then seeing every one of them, unharmed, as if nothing was at risk, nothing was to fear. It was shocking to say the least.

Ron crosses the threshold, as do I. I'm hoping, at this moment, that you aren't actually with me; that you're still off somewhere at Malfoy Manner, practicing in your psychotic ways. Why couldn't you just have been what I thought you to be? It'd be so much easier to let you go, to hate you; it would cause me no pain at all to see you taken away, or locked up…Everything would have been fine, if you would only be what I thought you to be.

In the living room, I see Ron's back. Before him, there is Professor Lupin; he's sitting closely next to Tonks, your neice, on Bill and Fleur's beaten leather sofa. They exchange glances, and then quickly lower their eyes to the floor.

I can't imagine what that must feel like, seeing her. Tonks has always spoken ill of you; I never much liked her.

Sitting next to Tonks is George Weasley; his twin brother, Fred, completing the curve of the half circle that has formed. On the other side of the Professor, sits Ginny. I notice she is holding Harry's hands and watching her own as they entwine with his.

I feel the walls of the small cottage begin to close in. everyone is so solemn; so quiet while they wait for some brave soul to speak up. I shove my hands deep into my pockets, forgetting for the moment, why everyone is so upset. Then I hear a faint _click_ against the hardwood and almost instantly, your body heat warms my back. You're closer than before and this time, I _can_ feel your breath against my cheek.

I'm hoping that my small intake of breath isn't noticeable. But the distance between us, or the lack there of for that matter, is making my nerves all the more unmanageable. I shift my eyes over my shoulder; I can only just see your own in my peripheral. They are scanning over the people in the room. You see every person you've been made to hate over the years; you see the faces of your enemies circled around the small living room, staring back at you with distaste and distrust and you wonder why you are even wasting your time.

But I don't think it's a waste of time, Bella; you're just not used to making an effort for the people that matter. Being cruel could come easy to anyone; it is caring that is hard. Making friends and being genuine is a talent very few possess.

I look to my right, toward the small table and see Percy. His arms are folded over his chest, his nose slightly stuck upward. Fleur is nowhere to be seen but Bill is in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley, who is rapidly scrubbing away at the dishes; refusing to acknowledge your presence.

However, even through all that is going on and all that has happened and even though we, as in the Trio, had been gone for months and without contact; everyone sits together, continuing on from where we had left off.

Dinner is set and the smell of the food is making my mouth water; I'm starting to care less and less about the situation at hand. I haven't eaten anything decent in God knows how long. The aroma is making my head fuzzy; I need to sit down.

As the room gently begins to shift and wobble, Mr. Weasley steps forward from the hallway; where he had been watching from behind the dim shadow. His movements are casual as he makes his way toward the two of us; Ron has already taken the spare chair next to Harry, pretending that the old magazine in his hands is a most amazing read.

Even though Mr. Weasley approaches with kindness; I can tell it is forced. He always has to be the good guy, the one to lighten the mood.

"Good evening, Hermione." He says with a light smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Weasley." I say quietly, trying to keep my eyes only on him. They're shameless; they care not about how this whole situation might feel from your point of view. It is then that I doubt they ever will.

Mr. Weasley clears his throat. He cannot stand awkward moments; he does not know which face is appropriate to wear.

"Might I have a word?" he asks quickly. No, you may not have a word, Mr. Weasley. I already know what it is that you have to say; I've probably heard it over a dozen times today.

"Of course." I tell him. He turns on his heel and leads me back into the shadows of the hall. At the very end, on the left, is a spare bedroom; already there are suitcases strewn about, ready to take advantage of the once, vacant room.

His head is down as he paces the length of the hardwood; his hands deep in his pockets. He's thinking of what to say, wondering how he should lay it out for me. He doesn't want to be rude, nor too harsh but he wants to get his point across, clean and clear.

He looks at me once, his mouth slightly agape. He takes a breath, still unsure of himself.

"Mr. Weasley." I say, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I already know what you are trying to tell me. I have nothing to say to it; I won't change my mind." I say stubbornly. There, I've laid it out for one more person. I'm expecting him to haggle with me, try to reach some sort of compromise; but he doesn't. Something I wasn't expecting at all.

"I know, Hermione. I'm only trying to think of a way to go about the situation." He explains, walking over to me. He holds onto my shoulders as he speaks; like Bill did. He locks my eyes in with his; this is okay, I have no problems facing Arthur Weasley.

"You have to understand, that the one thing we are all fighting against sits calmly in the other room. We do not know how to handle that; I wonder how you did, after all she has done…" he says, slipping in the last bit. I get it now, how did I not see it sooner?

He's playing the guilt card; one I am familiar with, having had Harry for a friend for so long.

My eyes squint against his comment. I do not know how to reply, what am I supposed to say to that? I don't even know why it is that I've taken a liking to you.

You made it too easy for me, Bella.

"I've already tried suggesting that we hear her out. That's all I want, Mr. Weasley." I say finally, growing more and more tired at having to repeat myself.

He looks at me, as if my eyes will tell him what to do next. He lets his hands drop from my shoulders, breathing out a frustrated sigh. One nod latter and he is leading me back down the hall and into the cramped living room.

I'm surprised I didn't hear all the commotion from inside the spare bedroom and when we enter the living room, the scene before me has left me at a loss for words.

I can hear crying; it isn't hysterical, in fact, it is quite gentle. It sounds sincere and perhaps a bit frightened.

In the center of the floor, sits both you and Tonks. Her hands are pressed into her face as she hides her tears. You have a soft arm wrapped around her own. I can hear you quietly shush her, willing her to gain control of herself. I look around, everyone is watching as I am. There aren't any words to explain our feelings.

Your hair falls in a thick sheet over your face, falling lightly onto your niece's shoulders.

You lean in, close to her ear. You whisper something to her; something I doubt will ever be repeated. Her cries ease up and she wipes at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.

This is what's hooked them, Bella. At the time, I hadn't any idea of what had gone on between you and your niece; I wasn't going to pry in things I wasn't a part of. But everyone else had. They all knew why Nymphadora was being cradled by you; why she was being hushed and petted. They didn't think it possible for a Death Eater like you, a monster, to show affection, or even love.

They refused to believe you were anything but a murderer, a liar and a severe threat; until that moment, that is.

There is more silence to follow. The quiet is filling the room, making it difficult to breath. I can almost see the corners of the walls bending in to the pressure.

Then, Mrs. Weasley steps in, ready to save the moment from any more awkwardness, with the promise of a hot meal.

"Supper is ready, everyone." She says, in a high stressed voice. Everyone moves at once and it seems they have even forgotten about you, or more, your persona of the witch, Bellatrix Lestrange.

**oOo**

There is more silence to follow but as the lot of us eat our fill and relax in the company of old friends and perhaps even new, none of us seems to want to break it.

This silence is welcoming, comfortable, familiar and so dearly missed.

I can lose myself, only focusing in the gentle clinking of plates and silverware; the occasional slurping of a drink.

I do not know how long we plan to be here. I know it won't be long before we are forced to leave again; if we can manage to sneak passed Mrs. Weasley, for a second time. I don't want to think about that now though; the thought makes my throat tight with more emotion that I knew I had.

With every few bites of food, I look over to you. You're seated on the chair Ron had been sitting in. Strangely, he had given it up to you, taking the next available seat on the raised hearth of the fireplace.

It is still tense in the small cottage but much less so; people are trying to relax, trying to see things the way I had seen them.

Slowly, everyone starts to clear out; finding a spare bedroom and resigning for the night. It makes me happy to know that they feel comfortable enough with you around to sleep. Mrs. Weasley is back in the kitchen, scrubbing away at the new pile of dishes; however, the tension in her work has dissipated some. She usually just uses magic to clear away a mess but I feel she needs to do the work in a Muggle fashion, to keep her head clear.

I've stayed seated at the small circular table, my hands placed in a tight ball in my lap. My fingers were fascinating to me then; they held my concentration nicely. The only people left in the room, aside from Mrs. Weasley and myself, was Harry, Ginny, Ron and you. Ron was eagerly awaiting my leave from the living room. I could tell he was tired and wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to me and fall asleep in the comfort of a family filled home. But I wasn't quite ready for sleep, not by any means. There were about a million and one questions, whirling uncomfortably in my head; of course, I knew I couldn't answer any of them but thinking of the happenings of the day would help ease them up.

I hear soft footsteps padding toward me; I look up from my hands and see a pair of red stained eyes. it is Harry, his face tells no lies; he is so exhausted.

"Good night, Hermione." He says, placing a friendly hand upon my shoulder. I flash him a weak smile and mutter my good night.

I get the same from Mrs. Weasley, she too is ready to retire; however, I could tell she wanted to wait until all had left. She'd feel safer knowing she was the last awake but her tired face revealed she could wait no longer. I watch as she walks up to you, wearily of course. She clears her throat and you are ripped from your thoughts; I wish I knew what it was that you were thinking about.

"There is a spare bedroom up the stairs and to the left. First door." She says, turning away and making her way down the hall. this pleased me, she could have said nothing, leaving you to wonder where it was that you were to go.

Finally, Ron could wait no longer. He walks up, his hands casually placed in his pockets.

"Ready?" he whispers tiredly. No, not quite yet.

"Yeah…" I say, taking one last glance at you. My face begins to burn when I notice you had been watching me first.

I wonder if I should bid you a good night; my palms begin to sweat at the thought.

I stand from my seat; Ron instantly grabs my hand, unnoticing of its shaking form. He's leading me up the stairs, away from you.

I turn at the last second and find that your eyes have not left me. I try to say something, but what? I do not know; so I settle for an awkward wave, thankful that we have disappeared from your sight before you can respond.

I lie awake in bed; the dark is comforting. It keeps me hidden from even myself. Ron was asleep before his head hit the pillow; I can feel his heavy arm wrapped tightly around my middle, keeping me locked in place. I try to focus on his breathing but soon find it is even more distracting than my own pestering thoughts.

What feels like hours later, I hear faint footsteps making their way up the staircase. I know it is you, for you were the last awake; also, the clicking of your heels is unmistakable to me. Your room is directly across from mine and when you finally make it to the platform of the second floor; you hover between your door and mine. I look toward you; I can see that shadows of your boots from under the crack of the barrier that keeps me locked inside the small room.

I can feel my heartbeat quicken, my chest rising and falling with each pump of blood. I'm so curious about you, Bella. What were you doing just standing there? I contemplate moving from my still state but think better of it; for, even if I had, I wouldn't know what to say once I had met you.

You make the decision for me, however, and before even the smallest muscle can twitch, you've retired to your own room.

Minutes later, I roll over, too tired to think any longer. I try to find happiness in Ron's sleeping form but he is so sharp, so broad, I cannot get comfortable. I place an extra pillow between us, snuggling up to the soft sack of feathers. Much better, so much better….


	8. Chapter 8

**I ****just**** want to tell everyone, once again, thank you for reviewing. It makes me so happy. I didn't think my story would get so many reads. Here is a**_** small **_**treat for your kindness. **

**Also, I just want to forewarn everyone about Bellatrix's OOC. I find her character to be extremely difficult to write dialogue for when she isn't acting bat shit insane. I hope my take on her doesn't turn you off. **

**Sleepless Night Pt 1**

A few days have passed since our arrival at Shell Cottage and the dawning feeling of departure gets stronger with each passing hour. Staying here, it has become too good to be true. There is less silence within our group. You've tried explaining yourself a few times; nothing too intimate though. No one is quite ready for a detailed story. I feel everyone is growing quite comfortable with insignificant details at the moment. I cannot tell you, Bella, how amazing that felt. I never thought progress would take place; I thought you would be gone before sunrise of the second day but you've cooperated well and with surprising manners, I might add.

However, I cannot deny the fact that such a strange and what felt like, sudden personality change, has left all of us, including myself, interested in you and your story. You will reveal it when the time comes and at the moment, we are all happy to wait.

Neither Harry nor Ron has said anything about leaving. They want to return to the depths of forests and desolate mountain tops, in search of something that feels so unobtainable, as much as I do. We are all ready for the war to be over and within the walls of the cottage, it is.

I won't say everything is hunky-dory, we are not laughing and talking about joyous times; everything is still thick and somber; we have not forgotten about the war that is waiting for us on the outside of these walls; and when we do find a moment of peace and perhaps allow a small smile to form, we can feel its patience wearing more and more thin.

One thing that is being muttered around the small home is your participation with the Order. It was only mentioned once but the small suggestion bred wild rumors. I was surprised to find that many of the existing Order members were about halfway on board. They still had many questions pertaining to you and your past, that is understandable but most felt your connection with Voldemort could be used to our advantage. However, we were all still skeptical; we had not yet forgotten how Snape turned out. Did we really want to take another chance like that? To expose ourselves to not only a Death Eater but one who used to work so closely with the main enemy? Did we have any choice? Most were growing desperate. I do not blame them, time was running short. In just one week, you had given explicit information on the whereabouts of the Dark Lord and what his future plans were. You had told us, one night over supper, where the majority of the Snatchers liked to hide and what was being said at the regular meetings at Malfoy Manner. Although, it had been some time since your last visit, you were sure that his plans had remained the same.

If they weren't convinced that you were a changed person, that night you held Tonks and comforted her in her time of need, they were now.

Perhaps it wasn't that you were a changed person but in fact, the real you. I wondered if all those years, serving Voldemort as your lord, was nothing but a gimmick. But that leads me to the question, why? Why would you put yourself in that position? I needed more, Bella. I needed to know your secrets but you hid them so skillfully, only allowing the tip of it all to show in casual conversation.

You were beginning to drive me mad with curiosity.

Ron on the other hand, still kept his distance from you. He was not as rude, not as he was in the beginning but he would not approach you unless otherwise asked, or if the situation required him to do so. I did notice, however, the cold shoulder you developed whenever in his presence.

His mood changed whenever I sought you out; which happened quite regularly. I was afraid I was beginning to nip at your nerves but I couldn't help but noticed the brightness of your eyes whenever I was around.

We still had that secret; the one that was beginning to tie us together, the one that kept us intertwined until those last moments; and perhaps even after. I know one day, you'll be able to smile again. I wish I could tell you just how much I loved you; I need you to hear it just one more time.

For, I was the first to ever give you a second chance, blindly and without accusation.

On the evening of the first day, leading into the second week of our stay at the cottage, was the first in which you approached me.

It was getting late, supper had already been eaten and the mess had already been cleared. Most were in bed, eager for the next day; eager to see what it would hold.

Ron and I were in our room, quietly arguing. That is what we did most days; he wanted to know why I never wanted to spend time with him anymore, why I was always trying to be around you or anyone else, for that matter. He wanted to know why it was that we never had any alone time and why whenever he tried to touch me, I would pull away.

I had no answer for him. I had made excuses, such as, the war was too much stress for me, or that I suffered from spontaneous headaches.

Both were slightly true; the war was growing evermore stressful, the idea of it anyway and everything that came along with it. I just felt that involving myself in sex wasn't appropriate for the time being. And as far as the headaches went, they were spontaneous and they only occurred when he tried to paw at me.

"You're not the only one that is stressed, Hermione." He argued, pulling the sheets of the bed up over his waist. He was sitting against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. I was trying to dress down, needing something more comfortable than my day clothes.

"I bet a little sex would be good for you." He said angrily. Perhaps he was right but it wasn't the sex I was apposed of, it was the sex with him that I didn't want.

I flashed him my best angry face; it did not faze him, he saw a lot of it lately.

"I just, am not in the mood, Ron." I said for probably the hundredth time that week. He let out a frustrated sigh, throwing the blankets off of his half naked body and marching passed me, to the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" I ask, turning to follow him.

He looks over his shoulder, "What's it matter to you?"

He's so angry, I wish I knew what it was that changed between us. I still love Ron, I don't think that will ever change but the way I love him, that is something different. It happened so suddenly, gave me no warning signs or anything. I was left to try and figure it all out, whilst trying to keep him in the dark about it. I was failing miserably and at that moment, I wondered if his and my relationship would ever reach a state of normality again.

He throws the door open, his footsteps barely audible against the cold hardwood. I watch from the doorway as he steps across the hall. He's at your door now and instantly, my cheeks begin to flush.

"Ron!" I whisper, "She could be sleeping…" I tell him, I can only just hear his response.

"I doubt it."

He knocks twice than places his hands firmly on his hips. I wish I knew then what it was he was planning on doing, that way I could have stopped the situation from even happening. I guess the reason why I'd want to stop it was simply because I am a nervous fool. Especially around you, Bella.

The one thing I wished I would have done was talk to you more often. Most of the time, I just watched you like some love sick teenager; however, at the time, I didn't know what it was that I was feeling, all I knew was that you intrigued me. You pulled at the curious strings of my mind, weaving them slowly but surely into your heart.

"Ron!" I tried again, not really sure of what else to say. I walk over to him and try to grab his hands; I'd suffer through sex with him, losing my dignity in the process, if it meant keeping my face and neck free of a most tell-tale blush. He pulls away and puts a gentle hand against my chest in order to keep me off him.

A moment later, the handle to your door begins to turn and time for me, stops. I watch as the door slowly opens, just enough for your eyes to peek through. They scan over the two of us and as your curiosity gets the best of you, you allow the door to open wider.

I never realized just how thin you were; your dress, so puffy and frilly, gives you the look of a much "healthier" woman. But as Ron and I stand there before you, I can almost see through your nightgown and it reveals almost every curve; too much for me to handle at the time. Your nightgown is an off white silk, very cliché but extremely sexy, nonetheless.

Your eyes squint at the sight of Ron and also, the brightness of the light from our room; it plummets through the open doorway of your own, casting eerily angled shadows against depth of the bedroom. I look down, unable to stop my eyes from walking the length of your body; I see your bootless feet. My blush intensifies. You seem too vulnerable and I feel that I am doing wrong by looking at you.

"What is it?" you ask in a grumpy manner. Ron wastes no time in cutting the chase.

"I need your room." He states solidly. You look over him a moment, waiting for him to start laughing or something; implying a joke on his part.

"Looks like you've already got one." You say, nodding your head, indicating the room behind us.

"Yes, but I need that one." Ron says, mirroring your nod.

"S'that so?" You say with a small smile. You're liking this; this is probably one of the reasons why Ron hasn't warmed up to you yet. You tease him so often. You know how to wind him up better than I do.

"And why's that?" You ask, stepping out into the hall, your hands behind your back resting lightly on the door handle. I can tell Ron is beginning to lose his patience.

"Ron, can we just go back to bed?" I ask, hoping he'll give up on the game he is playing.

"No, Hermione. If space is what you want, then I'm going to give it to you." He says, stepping forward, trying to make his way into your room. You hold your hand up, your fingers barely touching his chest. He looks up to you with a clenched jaw.

"And where exactly am I supposed to sleep, then?" you ask, this is a real question. Every bed is already occupied.

Ron shrugs, "I dunno, there's a spare couch downstairs." He suggests, not really caring about your new sleeping arrangement. He steps forward, you step back, standing your ground; your hand is now flat against his chest, ceasing his continuation into your room.

"I don't think so, boy." You say playfully, the smile on your face growing wider. Ron's fists are now in knots, his knuckles white in frustration.

"Fine, then. Sleep with Hermione!" he whispers loudly, still aware of the sleeping people around him.

You look to me; a curious glint shines in your eyes. My own go wide; I am unable to protest before Ron pushes past you, angrily closing the door behind himself.

You say nothing as I turn on my heel and quickly walk back into what was Ron and I's room.

I'm trying desperately to keep my mind busy with more important thoughts; I try to look busy as I walk around the perimeter of my bed. Still you say nothing.

I'm grateful for this. For, if you had spoken, I'm unsure of I'd be able to respond with anything remotely coherent.

I turn from Ron's side of the bed, the left side and repeat my steps back around it. You're standing by the door, just watching me. I wished you wouldn't, it was so distracting.

You don't think I can see you but I can; I feel I need blinders just to get me from one end of the room to the next.

Perhaps if I just think about Ron I'll calm down. Give my mind something irritating to play with, rather than something so achingly taboo.

I'm picking up dirty clothes from the floor; this is my OCD. I clean when I am nervous or angry etc. etc. You'll later learn this about me.

As I walk to the basket that holds all our dirty laundry, I hear a faint click and am instantly plunged into complete darkness.

This is when you speak; I can detect the smile on your words, even with the absence of your face.

"Night, Dearie."

You pad passed me; I can feel a light breeze as you do this; carrying the scent of roses and cigarettes gracefully into my nose.

I'm stuck in the center of the room, unsure if I should follow your lead and force myself into bed. I hear the mattress shift under your weight. I wonder if you are really as nervous as I am but are just better at the game.

Finally, after what feels like decades, your voice pulls me back into the situation at hand.

"You comin?" You ask, sincerely wondering if I'll be joining you.

I try to speak but my throat constricts against the words. I'm being ridiculous, why am I acting this way?

"Yeah… I'm coming." I respond, forcing my legs to move and walking on shaky knees to my side of the bed. I sit first, slowly pulling myself under the covers. I turn quickly, pulling the blankets up to my ears, my back facing you.

I'm thinking of nothing, trying to focus only on my breathing; hoping I can still do that much.

Ron will never hear the end of it come morning.

After a few minutes, I'm sure you are asleep and slowly I allow myself to calm. That really wasn't so bad.

I allow the blankets to slip passed my shoulders as I try to find a more comfortable position.

That's when I feel it. The bed shifts and I try to keep myself from rolling into the small divot you made, bringing me closer to your body. I stiffen and hold onto the blankets.

I'm praying that you're a not a still sleeper.

"Why so tense, Granger?" you ask quietly, turning to face my back. I think about not answering, hoping you'll think I am already asleep.

"Not tense." I reply, giving in to your demands.

"Aw, no use in lyin'. I heard what you and Ginger were fightin' about." You say with a small tease. Why are you doing this? Can't we just go to sleep and pretend that this awkward little sleepover never happened? I can't help the blush that burns into my flesh; good thing it is dark.

"Just, forget about it. It isn't anything…" I lie; I really don't want to get into a conversation with you about Ron. It doesn't feel right, like mixing milk and lemon.

I can't see you but I know you shrug against my reply. "Suit yourself but I know it actually _is_ somethin'; you're not as sneaky as you think you are, pet." You say; I can actually hear the smile on your words. You won't feed me any real information; everything is a metaphor with you.

I can tell right away that I won't be getting any sleep tonight; what with Ron's behavior and your…you….being in my bed. I roll over, facing you. For a moment, there are no words spoken; in those few seconds, everything feels okay again and I can't figure out why.

Well, I feel at the time, I wouldn't allow myself to. I didn't want to know the truth; I'd play innocent and naïve until you had almost literally shoved it all down my throat.

Finally, you break the silence; you are always the first one to initiate conversation in our awkward moments.

"Why, hello. Stay here often?" you mutter; you're growing tired. Good. I need some alone time, I need a moment to process.

I can't help but smile, I never thought you to be the playful type. I'm not sure if I only just noticed or if I wasn't as aware as I ought to have been, given the circumstances; but you're closer to me now. Not by much but enough that it wouldn't be rude of me to scoot back a few centimeters or so.

"So. Why not tell me a little somethin' about yourself, then?" you ask casually, "Seeing as neither of us can get to sleep." You seem to think this is normal behavior amongst women, because in your question, your body shifts closer; breaking the unspoken rule of acquaintanceship: Regard the personal bubble!

Our knees our touching now; I try my hardest to keep them from shaking.

"I don't know what you mean. Like what?" I say dumbly. I'm not even sure of who I am at the moment.

I've never felt for someone, like I did…do, for you, Bella. With anyone I have ever fancied, none of it was real. Some, I thought was real but found to be false the second I felt _you_.

You shrug again, lowering your voice to a light whisper.

"Dunno. Anything you wanna tell me is fine…"

Are you implying something? I think you are.

I push myself away, just slightly. Just barely noticeable. Your brow tightens as you raise you head some, trying to get a better look at me through the dark.

"Whas wrong? Have I said something?" you ask. I can see the corner of your mouth lift into a half smile.

I just wanted to sleep, Bella. All I wanted was to keep you away; I didn't want to discover myself quite yet. I wasn't ready.

I clear my throat. It buys me time to think of a proper response to your question.

"I just- it seems, if I'm not mistaken, that you were coming on to me…" I finally say. Instantly, I want to take it back; to suck it back in through my lips, where it can settle in the depths of my lungs. But, you would never let that happen. You get off on the slipping of tongues. Without them, you'd have nothing to play with.

You prop yourself on your elbows, your knee no longer touching mine. You're looking at me with those eyes again; the same ones that flashed over to me out in the hallway. Butterflies begin to scratch at me from the inside of my stomach. Self-consciously, I pull the blankets up to my chin, holding them tight with stiff fingers. I can't help it; in your thought, your eyes wander from me, to somewhere beyond. I take this time to drink you in.

Your hair is a wild mane around your pale face. You hold a full lip lightly in between your teeth, your fingers gently tying themselves in with each other.

Finally, you've gotten hold of your response. You shift, eyes boring into my own.

"And what if I was. What would you say?"

I can feel the heat from your body, warming my own. Did you really just ask me that? Are you really scooting closer?

I'm already on the edge of the bed; I'm stuck, waiting for the moment where contact is made, once again.

I turn my head, trying to focus on something else; acting as though nothing was ever said. But then a hand reaches up; one finger lightly trails the length of my jaw, sending jolts of fire and goosebumps to rise on my skin….


	9. Chapter 9

**(Patience, my dears.)**

**:D**

**Sleepless Night pt2.**

All is forgotten in my world. Nothing at all will be what it was and I can't say that I will miss it. Sometimes, things die so that new things can grow; I am okay with this. Maybe not right away. I know it will take time.

"What would you do…?" Your words slither into my ear; my body erupts into shivers. I think I've placed a weak hand on your shoulder; I'm not too sure though, seeing as I've lost feeling in the entirety of my body.

There is pressure, pressure on said hand. You've laced your fingers in with mine, slowly pulling them downward until they've disappeared within the depths of the covers. I may have tried to pull away but no good came of it. Your grip is firm, you know what you want. I have about half a centimeter left on the bed to scoot; I take it but you make up for it by sliding closer.

It isn't that I didn't want you, I did but I wouldn't have the courage to feel you from the inside for many weeks. I'd have to relearn myself after tonight. You had become my forbidden fruit and I, the Eve that plucked you from the tree. However, I felt you weren't quite ripe enough and I had yet to develop the acquired taste of you.

I try to say something but the words catch in my throat. I can slightly feel the soft skin of your thighs as you slowly slide my hand farther along the length of your legs.

"So shy…" you say, I try to shake my head but in this moment, the only thing I can manage to do is breathe but only just so.

I look up to you. I can tell you are tired but you refuse to give in, fighting your body to cooperate with you. Our eyes connect. There is something so welcoming within your own, I cannot help but wallow in them. You're so close now, closer than before. When did that happen? How did I not notice?

You've wrapped my arm around your middle, allowing you to break the barrier I've tried to keep between us. I can smell you again. I'll never forget that smell. Such a strange combination; they taste even better.

Your head lies next to mine as you watch me in my struggle. You find it amusing, I can see why. My eyes have not left you and your own remain on me. What is it that we are doing? I should stop this, it isn't appropriate; you are so much older than me, you are a most admired Death Eater…and most of all, you are a woman!

"I-I can't do this…" I breathe out, slowly taking my weary hand off the curve of your hip. You don't accept this. I can feel your fingers wrap around my arm, they are light but sure.

"I'm not askin for much." You say, turning from your side and pinning my right arm gently above my head. There is no going back from this. I'm literally being held in place from the weight of your body; you're about halfway on top of me, our chests lightly touching.

I cannot suppress a gasp at the amount of contact being made. It is shocking, how perfect we fit; how gentle and soft you are.

I can feel hot breath against my neck but as quick as it comes, it is lost. You've switched positions, now straddling me.

It is just like before but this time, there is no anger, no hostility; your voice is light and in it, I can hear your arousal; making my own, ache in haste.

"Why are you doing this?" I choke, unable to keep myself from caressing the gentle curve of your body for a second time. You smile against my question, grabbing my hands and pulling them up your sides; allowing my fingers to dance happily up your silk gown.

I can't help the sigh that slips from my lips. I bite down, hoping you don't notice. You do, however, and I watch as your smile grows wider.

"You're not the only one with secrets, love." You reply, leaning forward; your hair comes down over me in great, black locks.

"Don't act like this wasn't bound to happen. You knew as well as I. I will not hide what I feel; whatever that may be." You finish.

You've admitted it out loud, before I could even admit it silently to myself. I have no response for this and after what feels like hours of trying to slip from your grip, I've decided to give in and allow myself to indulge in something forbidden; something I know I would have never indulged in by choice.

This bizarre attraction I have developed for you, was never supposed to be recognized, let alone acknowledged in words but rules seem to have no meaning to you.

I shake my head, denying those facts more so to myself than to you. You giggle, it is quiet and air filled, "Why, you are a stubborn one, aren't you?" you ask. I go to answer, the words already forming on my tongue but you've moved in; your prey right where you want it. Your breath hits my lips, singing the skin there. I can taste you and my mouth begins to water.

I've never had such a reaction. Not even on the night I lost my virginity. Sure, there was lust, there was emotion and I won't lie and say I wasn't aroused. But never was it as intense or as focused as this. I was lost in you already and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find my way back, or even if I'd want to, for that matter.

After that night with Ron, I had rolled over; him already fast asleep. I didn't think there to be a problem, I had assumed sex would be hard and invading from that point on. I was fine with that for awhile. I had nothing else to compare it to.

But it got worse and I grew bored and reluctant. Sex had become a chore; something I was obligated to perform in, to associate myself with as a girlfriend.

I was beginning to understand the difference between sex and good sex.

Your face is so close, I keep my eyes open as long as I can but they begin to lose focus; I decide to close them and hold my breath as I wait in anticipation for our lips to meet. I can almost feel them, ghosting slightly over my own. I want so bad to lean in, to tangle my fingers within your crazy mess of hair; I'm building up the courage to do so and just as I do, our lips only millimeters from touching, I hear a door close stiffly from across the hall.

Instantly, I push you away and in my startled state I fall from the bed, landing with a heavy _thud_ on the cold hardwood floor. I can hear my blood rush passed my ears and as I scramble back under the covers, I can hear you trying to stifle a laugh. It is the thrill of it all; of knowing you could be caught doing something you know to be wrong, that is what you like about all this. My hands are shaking and sweat has formed on my brow, I've only just pulled the blankets over my shoulders when my bedroom door swings open.

Your back is facing me and even though I can feel the jolt of your body as you suppress a most insane giggle, I know that you are trying to feign sleep; for my sake.

I sit up, pretending just to have woken.

"Ron?" I say breathlessly; I'm still trying to recover from you, I can still feel my heart beating fast against my chest.

Ron pads into the room; my eyes have adjusted to the dark just enough for me to make out the expression on his face; it is one of complete defeat.

"I couldn't sleep…" he says with a sigh. I sit up farther, rubbing my eyes for dramatic effect.

"Why not?" I ask drowsily.

He shrugs, unwilling to answer me. However, I already know why. Ron has grown used to the weight of my body on his, the warmth of it as he snuggles close to me in the night. I find it endearing but I cannot forget his behavior. So juvenile, I am still upset with him.

"Can I have my half of the bed back?" he asks, his bottom lip jutting out just slightly. I cannot help the smile that forms on my face. I look to you and see you have remained in character.

"It seems Bellatrix is already asleep, Ron." I say, looking up to him. His brow knits together as his eyes find your "sleeping" form.

"So, wake her then." he says. He's losing the battle and he knows it; though he won't admit it to himself.

" I can't, that'd be rude." I say. The air is growing thick and the tension within it is time stopping. He looks from me to you, eyes swiveling back and forth; trying to make sense of something I'm sure he has no idea about.

"Fine." He replies stiffly. I'm hoping my refusal to rid you of the bed is enough to drive him back into your room. Unfortunately, it is not and I watch as he walks swiftly to your side; kneeling down close to you, in order to keep his voice at a whisper.

"Oi…" he says, pushing on your shoulder. You stir and he takes his hand back as though the touch of your flesh on his has left burn marks.

"Ron! Knock it off." I tell him, moving to get out of bed. It is too late, however, and you have decided to wake at his demand.

One eye opens and lands on Ron's kneeling form. He leans back, pushing himself onto his feet.

"What is it?" you ask, "Can't you see that I am sleeping?" You play the part well, Bella. He hasn't the faintest idea.

"You can have your room back…" he whispers, folding his arms across his chest. You push yourself up on one arm, rubbing your face with the hand on the other.

You turn to look at me, that glint still strong in your black eyes, then over to Ron who stands still, waiting for your reply.

"If I give you back your bed, I wanna be sure you won't be knockin on my door at some ungodly hour, needin mine." You say, now in a sitting position. Ron's jaw clenches as he debates silently with himself. He knows if he agrees, he'll have to be good; he'll have to follow _my_ rules.

"Sure." He replies. Instantly, you remove yourself from the warmth of my bed and walk around its end, passed me and over to the door. There, you stop and turn back. Our eyes meeting for the last time this night.

"Night, girlie, it was fun while it lasted."

Really? Really…was that necessary? No, not at all but you had to slip in that last bit, just to keep him guessing when he had nothing to assume in the first place. My eyes go wide, my cheeks turning dark pink in the process. I can feel the bed shift as Ron climbs in. He says nothing until you've left and our door has closed, until he is sure you are back in your own room across the hall.

He snuggles deep into the covers, I lie down as well. I'm on my back, staring at the white ceiling. Ron is on his side, facing me.

"What was that all about?" he asks, my eyes shift toward the sound of his voice. I'm hesitant to answer but longer I go without responding, the more suspicious he'll become.

"No idea…." I say. He seems to be fine with my answer, as I can feel him move closer and snake a strong, hairy arm around my waist. Before he drifts off to sleep, he moves in, placing a firm, wet kiss on my once burning lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**I love that you are all enjoying this story; I'm growing quite fond of it myself. Sorry that it took me a bit to get the next chapter up. Tuesday was my birthday and I was forced to drive all the way to eastern Washington and back in one day…anyway. :P **

**I hope you all enjoy the latest chapter of the Bellamione Fanfiction, Beat the Horse. **

**333 :{D-8- **

There would be an Order meeting, later on. It would be the first since the war broke out; we were missing a few people but we made up for it with others. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and myself had all decided to join. We would make up for Professor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. No one really counted Mundungus as a true member anymore, not after the first war, anyway.

In any case, I was not prepared for it. I'd been awake now for almost 32 hours. After you had left that night, I found it extremely troublesome to fall asleep. What with Ron's sharp elbows hitting my sides. He had rolled on top of me some hours later, his snoring boring deep into my ear and the musky odor of him seeping straight into my nose.

The house had stirred and woken only hours after the sun broke over the horizon. I could hear the creaking of floorboards and faint groggy voices filing the space of the small cottage. Nothing would put me to sleep and everything was keeping me from doing so.

I wondered if you were in the same boat; if our play date had had any kind of effect on you; or if you were merely trying to get your rocks off. By the time Ron had decided to get up, the mouth water aroma of a fine and fresh breakfast had wafted up to our floor; I'm sure this is the only reason why he had woken in the first place. He leaned over me, breathing his rank morning breath right into my face.

"Hermione?" he whispered sweetly, lightly nudging me. I had been pretending to be asleep, in hopes he would leave me. I cracked open a blood red eye.

"Breakfast is ready." He said hungrily. My eye squinted in irritation; had I really been sleeping, I was curious to know why he would think I'd care for food. I was supposed to be_ sleeping_.

"I'm not hungry…" I said groggily, turning from him and pulling the blankets up farther over my head. I could hear him sigh, he knew I was still upset and he was trying to make up for it by acting all lovey dovey.

"Suit yourself." He said, pushing himself from the bed. I reclosed my eye, listening for the moment that I was finally alone, finally allowed to be with only my thoughts. I heard the all too familiar _click_ of the door, indicating his absence. I breathed out; it was heavy and filled with more than I could process at the moment.

Perhaps I had fallen asleep, there is a chance I could have drifted off for a few minutes but as soon as my body allowed itself to shut down, I could hear in the back of my subconscious, the opening of a door. Could no one leave me be? I refused to wake, however. I would fight it until the last second.

I felt the weight of another person sit on the edge of my bed; I tipped toward it, uncaring of almost anything at that moment.

And in slips broken words, disrupting my light slumber, finalizing any chance of deep sleep. I pull down the blanket, allowing my eyes to adjust to the new light. I see a face, blurred and waiting. It is Ginny and she sits before me with a small smile. I moan, slightly angered by her presence.

She had placed a friendly hand upon my covered leg.

"Come on, Hermione. Time to wake up." She says, "We've got breakfast waiting for you."

I don't want breakfast. I am not hungry; please, just go.

I let out a defeated breath, tearing the covers off in the process. "Okay. I'll be down in a moment." I reply, watching her leave the room with tired eyes.

Fast forward, to the now; or, the more present past of this retelling.

I had tried to numb my mind; I didn't have the strength to think about the events of the night before. I would let it be for as long as I could, I only hoped you would join me in doing so.

I faintly remember dressing; faintly remember my decent of the staircase and seating myself next to Harry at the breakfast table. I could hear Mrs. Weasley shuffle toward me, a full plate ready in her hands.

"Here you are, Dear." She says, placing copious amounts of bacon and eggs in front of me. My stomach tightens at the sight but quivers with hunger at the smell. I decide tea is best for now and slurp the hot liquid, waiting for my confused stomach to settle.

"You all right?" Harry says to me, taking a bite of his toast. "You look like you haven't slept in days…" he finishes. He would be correct, or well, halfway correct; I still had about ten hours before his statement would be valid.

I smile weakly, taking another sip of tea.

"It would seem to look that way, wouldn't it?" I reply, setting down my cup. This is when you come in. I can hear your boots make their way down the staircase. I freeze on the spot; I wish I had thought to make a plan of some sort, something to prepare me for what was to come. I would just have to try and act as though nothing had changed; everything was the same between us…I could do that much…

Everyone moves about the cottage as though your presence is of no threat at all; they have become accustom to you, maybe even comfortable.

Even you move with less pompousness than before; I believe you had done this, in order to keep them away. You wanted them to remain frightened and believe you to be something you weren't because you too were afraid. But now, after weeks of living almost elbow to elbow with these people, you no longer care. You are finally at ease; well, at as much ease as you are allowed, given the circumstances.

You waste no time in seating yourself next to me at the table. I shouldn't find this surprising. I reach for my fork and proceed to shovel food into my mouth; I have nothing to say to you and even if I did, my mouth is now too preoccupied to do so. You watch as I do this, smiling openly at the awkward aura radiating off of me. I'm sure everyone can feel it but only you and I know the reason.

"Hermione, slow down. It isn't like we don't have more." Harry says, looking at me with concern. I shrug as I drop my fork; perhaps he is right. I can feel my stomach tighten against the food. I swallow and try to let it pass without showing the pain on my face. That really was a terrible idea.

You watch the whole thing, completely amused at how uncomfortable you've made me. I try not to look at you as you bite into your toast; I can still feel your strong black eyes as they slowly trace down over my body. Goosebumps rise on my skin. I have to get away from you. You don't even have to say anything for me to have a reaction to you. It's pathetic.

I wipe my face with the serviette placed to my right and hastily push myself from the table. I turn to Harry.

"Would you like to accompany me to the beach?" I say with a slightly stiff edge. My eyes bulge, hoping Harry will understand what it is that I am trying to say. He looks to me, one eye brow raised.

"Sure, Hermione." He says, standing up. You watch as I walk across the living room and out the front door, Harry trailing closely behind.

The door softly closes behind him; he moves to stand next to me. I look out over the hill that we are placed on, to the vast ocean horizon ahead. It is endless and its movements are strangely passive; mirroring the exact opposite of how I feel on the inside.

"You alright?" Harry asks softly, watching me with concern. I do not look at him but remain focused on the sea before us.

"I have to tell you something." I say calmly, "Follow me…"

I walk down the steps, feeling them creak under my weight and down the small hill, kicking up sand in the process.

I can hear Harry walking swiftly behind me. I can hear the curiosity in his footsteps.

I'm unsure of what I'll say, or how I'll say it. All I know is that I need someone to talk to, someone unbiased and understanding. Harry may be extremely self absorbed but he has never failed to be a good friend. We rely greatly on one another.

By the time we reach the shore, both of us are huffing with greedy breathes. Fighting against the wind and moving through the heavy, wet sand has left us both spent; especially I, who has yet to reenergize myself. I'm starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation; my head is starting to feel weightless and the rims under my eyes are beginning to itch with fervor. I carry on, however, unwilling to turn back.

I thought myself stronger than I was. I am not ready to face you; I do not trust you or your judgment. I'm sure that if we mingle within the same room for too long, something will be said or implied and it will not be me who reveals it.

I'm tired, so tired. My weakness has less to do with my lack of sleep and more to do with all of the dawning thoughts lurking deep within my mind. I need to break them out or I feel my head might explode. If that happens, there will be no more secrets and sometimes secrets are what keep people together; without them, I'm sure we would all be alone and lost, unable to decipher the correct path back home.

I stand just inches from where the water licks the shore, watching as the early morning waves crash against the kaki colored sand. Harry stand at my left, I can hear he is still trying to catch his breath; but soon, they ease and he is breathing as calm as I am.

"So, what is it you have to tell me?" he says after a few moments of silence.

I look to him, then back to the horizon. What is it that I have to tell him? Where do I even begin?

"When are we leaving, Harry?" I ask quietly, squinting against the high rising sun. I know this is not something he wants to hear; he doesn't want to think about leaving the company of our family and friends. He wants it all to disappear, as we all do; but he knows as a true fighter, as an Order member and above all, as the Chosen One, that there is a war waiting and it gross restless. We have minimal time before our safe haven is found and destroyed, taking our every chance at winning with it, as it falls.

"I-I don't know, Hermione. I guess I really haven't been thinking about it all that much." He lies. I know that that is all he thinks about, he plans his next move after every breath, after every blink of his eyes. He can't help it; none of us can. I turn to face him, shoving my hands deep inside my pockets.

"Harry, I know you're scared." I tell him, I can tell he wants to protest but he thinks better of it. He knows I am not stupid; perhaps if it were Ron who had made that assumption, he would have fought it. But not with me.

"But you know as well as I, that we cannot keep hiding here. I want to leave just as much as you. I don't want to leave them anymore than you." I tell him sadly. His jaw clenches slightly, he hates showing his weak side; just like every man.

"I know…" he says, turning from me and facing the sea; his eyes glaze over, he is lost in thought and in the endless push and pull of the ocean, he looks for something that we are all searching for. He won't find it, I already know this; he does too.

"We'll leave soon." He decides, looking at me again. "Just one more week and we'll leave…"

I nod, agreeing with his decision. In one week, we could get a lot done, even without leaving the cottage. But then I realize; it would be you who would be providing the majority of the information. I feel that our "time off" is over. I can't wait any longer; it is now or die.

We are silent for another moment, taking some private to time to think about the journey that is no longer on pause.

Finally, it is lost and Harry begins to talk once more.

"So, is there anything else you had to say?" he says curiously. I knew my comment would not be forgotten. There was something I had needed to say, I was buying time before it was finally pulled out of me. I let out a breath, it was obvious to me what was written on it; I hoped Harry couldn't tell.

The wind blows my hair about my face; I swipe it away, finally finding the courage to talk.

"This is between you and I, Harry." I say sternly. His brow knits together but he gives me a stiff nod nonetheless.

"I think… I think I'm going to break it off with Ron." I tell him; I had been so afraid to admit it out loud, unsure if it my thoughts really mirrored my feelings but after I had said it, I knew it was the right thing to do. I was already feeling better, perhaps even a little hungry.

I wait for Harry's response, slightly unnerved at how long he is taking to answer. He pulls off his glasses, rubbing them clean on the fabric of his T-shirt.

"It's cuz of her, isn't it?" he says, quietly.

Instantly, I am frozen; from toe to fingertip I cannot feel a thing, except of course the fire burning viciously down my chest and back.

"W-what do you mean?" I whisper. I really am horrible at lying; I'm surprised I've gotten away with as much as I have.

"It's no secret, Hermione. I see the way you look at her. Mind you, she isn't someone I'd choose to see you with…but, she's shown a lot of potential. You were right all along. Go figure…" he says, smiling lightly.

I still can't breathe. Was I really that obvious? Does Ron know? Does anyone else?

"I mean, she's a great bit older than you but, if she makes you happy…" he states, telling me openly that whatever I choose, he supports. As long as I am happy.

"How will you tell Ron?" he asks as though everything is fine. But it is not fine; I'm not even sure what it is I feel toward you and he's already giving me the go ahead. I can't take this. I need to sit. And so I do, right on the log bench that is settled nicely within the sand. He follows, unsure of my reluctance.

"Hermione, what is it?" he says, placing a soft hand on my knee. I look to him, feeling tears starting to well in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harry. There is just so much, I don't even know where to start. I don't even know what it is that I am doing, what it is that I feel. Or how to say any of it." I admit in a rush of words. I hide my face in the palms of my hands; embarrassed by my show of weakness.

Harry is overwhelmed as well. He doesn't need to say anything for me to know it; I can feel it all around him. He tries his best to comfort me; he has me under his arm. It is just like before, when he held me that night I saw Ron with Lavender. I was so upset, so sickened at Ron's actions and by the end of the night, it was Harry who had been there to wipe my face clean.

"It'll be alright, Hermione. We'll get through this, all of this." He reassures, squeezing me harder into his chest; he sounds so sure, I can't help but believe him.

Gently, I remove myself from his grip, wiping away the tears that have stained my pink cheeks.

"I hope so, Harry…"

**oOo**

I had kept my distance from you for the remainder of the day; lingering in my room for as long as they would allow. After an hour or so, someone would come poking around for me. I'd slip away once again after a slight appearance, sure to have another hour of alone time.

During those moments where it was required of me to show my face, I felt your eyes all around me. I knew what they were saying, Bella. You wanted to know what I was playing at. From the minute you woke, you thought you'd be the one to play the game and now I was playing it. You weren't very good at defense.

All the while, I made sure my glance skipped over you; I couldn't afford to get caught in your stare. Everything was better this way. At least for the time being. I had hoped you would get the hint and back off a little; allow me to figure out the situation but of course, that would be too easy. Where is the story in that?

The Order meeting would take place in the next hour; I could smell supper being prepared, it was maddening, that smell on an empty stomach. I prayed to Merlin that I would be left alone until everyone was ready to gather; perhaps in that time I could catch up on my sleep.

I lay down, stuffing my head deep within the puffy pillow; taking a deep breath in the process. I could hear, for the first time, happiness. There was laughter, it was slight but even so, it was radiating. I smiled some; it was the laughter that had been missing all along. I feel almost new again and quite sleepy, I might add.

There I go. All day I had been stuck at the top of this wild rollercoaster, unable to push forward; but in the whispers of laughter, I ease up and drift off. Just slightly though, perhaps for a few minutes. That is all I am allowed before I am interrupted for the umpteenth time.

I try to ignore the door as it swings open and slides shut. I try to incorporate the _click_ of boots into my faded dreams and I pretend it is not you who sits on the edge of my bed, waking me from sleep. I do not open my eyes, nor do I turn toward you. My back will speak for me, I have nothing to say.

The mattress shifts as you switch positions, now lying next to me; are we really spooning right now? I feel your arm slip around my middle as you pull yourself closer. I try to ignore this, whatever it is that you are hoping to accomplish. For the record, I am not angry with you, Bella. I hope you understand my actions almost solely do not involve you; your presence, however, adds greatly to my perturbed state of mind.

I can feel your breath against my ear; it sends electric shocks down my neck and straight to my most sensitive parts. I bite down on my bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. My hair twists down the length of your finger and you pull yourself closer.

"Have I done something?" you ask sweetly. I want to turn around, to grab you and tell you that everything is fine. That you've done nothing, that it is all me; but I can't and I won't.

My eyes open slightly; I cannot suppress the faint smile that begins to creep up onto my face.

"I don't know…" I say strangely. Lifting a shaking hand to grab at yours; I pull it close and weave my fingers in with your own. I can feel your smile on the back of my neck; this affection is getting easier to handle. It is the thought of everyone else's reactions that gnaws at me.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Bellatrix…" I say nervously. I decide it is time to be completely open with you; I had planned differently but as you lie next to me, caressing the top of my hand with great care, I cannot suppress my thoughts any longer.

I know you feel the same; there is too much risk in what we are doing. We both wonder if it is worth it.

"Me neither, dearie…but that's half the fun, is it not?" you ask quietly, brushing a lock of my hair from my shoulder. I turn to you, our faces less than a foot away. Your brow rises as I watch you; silently studying what is swirling in your eyes.

"How did this happen? I ask honestly. I do not remember how I had gotten mixed up in this, how I had let myself get so lost in you.

"I'm not too sure, love but I assume it is with good reason. Nothin' just happens." You tell me and you really believe it, it makes my nerves settle. You take hold of my hands and pull them up to your lips, never once breaking eye contact with me. A shiver shoots through me as I feel your kiss; it is so soft, so light but it is enough. The corner of my mouth lifts into a half smile.

If I could just stay here forever…

Our eyes close, my hands still wrapped gently within your own.

"What will happen from here?" I ask drowsily, feeling I might drift off again.

"I wish I knew." You tell me, "You're leavin soon though; as am I…" you admit. My eyes shoot open; I guess I hadn't realized that you wouldn't be coming with us.

"Where will you go?" I ask, trying not to sound desperate. You shrug, as though it isn't a big deal but you know it is; you act passive for my sake.

"Back. It won't be long before the Dark Lord calls on me. I've been waitin quite anxiously…" you tell me, "So," you say, taking your hands from mine and switching to an upright position. I follow suit, eager to hear what else it is that you have to say.

"I'll be needin my wand back."

You smile sadly but you try not to make it too noticeable. You do not want to upset me further.

"Oh…right." I say, I had completely forgotten about your wand, which was safely being stowed in my jacket pocket.

"I'll get that for you…" I tell you, not wanting to move just yet. There was something else lingering within the empty space around us. We both know what it is but neither makes the first real move. Perhaps if we met halfway; I feel that would be appropriate.

So, as I lean in, unashamed of what it is I am attempting to do, I see you do the same. Automatically, my eyes close. I reach up and stroke the side of your face with a trembling hand. Your own lightly grab the back of my neck and pull me closer.

My palms begin to sweat and my stomach is in knots. I feel I might be running a slight fever but it is soon melted when I feel, for the first time, the gentle pressure of your lips on mine. It is so innocent, so uncertainly sure; everything about your kiss feels right but there is something there in the back of my head, telling me to pull away. I do not listen; instead, I pull you closer; burying my fingers deep within your black mane. You are not shy as I am, I can hear the pleasure radiating off the back of your throat; it is what drive me.

You pull back, your eyes swimming in a new light; I cannot help but smile, letting go an airy giggle. The contact is lost; just long enough for you to take control. I am on my back before I know it; you are not as gentle as before, there is something you are aching for; I ache just the same.

Your fingers dance at the hem of my shirt, ghosting over the sensitive skin there; I can feel your teeth nip at my neck. I cannot help the sigh that rips from my throat, it is almost too much for me to handle.

This is when my head clears; at this moment, it all begins to make sense. I want you and I do not care any longer, what that might mean. That is irrelevant.

In our moment, I do not want to think about anything but the feel of you on me. Everything else can wait.

"You sure you want to do this?" you say breathlessly, trying your best to keep your hands at bay. All you need is that green light and I happily give it to you. My hand holds the back of your neck, the other skips over the frills of your dress, where it eventually rests on your shoulder. I feel that for now, only fevered kisses will be exchanged; to do anything else, would be too much of a risk, what with the Order only right downstairs and with that distracting knock on the door….

"Oh my gosh!" I say, pushing you off of me. You do not laugh like you did last time; I feel that you are sincerely frustrated and as I move to answer the door, you sit on your knees, quietly fuming.

My legs shake and sweat drips down my back and chest; I'm about halfway to the door, when it opens.

It is Ron and he wears a solemn expression; I wonder why he had even knocked.

"Ron?" I ask nervously. He looks from me to you; I can see that his fists are it knots.

"Supper is ready…" he states, turning quickly on his heel. I can hear is heavy footsteps clomp down the hallway and descend down the length of the staircase. I turn, finding your eyes. My own are wide and anxious; I feel I may hyperventilate.

You are no longer angry; instead, you seem to be quite pleased. Your smile is dark and I can tell you are sorry for nothing; in your smile, there is truth.

We have been discovered.

I have to get to Ron, to try and explain; because I know if I don't, our little secret will be a secret no longer.

I tear from the room and whizz down the hall; I take the stairs two at a time, only thinking of Ron. When I enter the room, trying quietly to stifle my heavy breathing, I see everyone except him. Where has he gone?

No one takes notice of me as I dash across the living room and out the front door. Off in the distance, I can see a small red headed figure. He walks with fervor and as I watch him go, I wonder if I should even follow.

I have nothing to say to him. It is done, over and it has been for quite some time.

After a moment of debate, I decide and slowly, I turn and make my way back into the lively cottage.

I push away the door and it closes with a stiff_ click_.


	11. Chapter 11

**A reminder: Some events in this story will not be explained. You will only understand things as Hermione does. This may be frustrating but such is life. **

**:D**

Ron never made it to the meeting.

Mrs. Weasley was in hysterics, Mr. Weasley tried his best to reason with her, tried to find an excuse for his absence; he struggled greatly. We carried on with the meeting, nonetheless. I had explained that Ron and I had had an argument of sorts and that he had stormed off. I left out the part where I watched him walk away; I told them he had already gone by the time I had made it outside. I knew Ron was in no danger, he wouldn't go far…. Not after his last experience with Snatchers.

This is what I hoped, anyway.

I thought it best to leave him with his thoughts; I got the same impression from most everyone else.

We all sat quietly around the large kitchen table. It had been enlarged to fit us all and the dinner that sat upon it. Before Mrs. Weasley had known about her missing son, she had happily prepared a most extravagant meal. It was somewhat celebratory, seeing as it had been the first time in months that the Order had had the time, or the place to gather.

Without Ron, everyone seemed to be on edge. He was lurking in the back of our minds, all of us wondering if he would make it back home; if he would be okay. There was only so much we could do to find him; and less now that Voldemort seemed to be around every unfamiliar corner. So, we carried on. Hoping he would come to his senses before we all had to go to drastic measures.

"So," Lupin says, setting aside his now clear plate and wiping off his face with a serviette. "I think it is fair to say, that family time is over-."

-"Oh, Remus." Mrs. Weasley interjects, graciously filling Lupin's plate. "There is always time for family…"

He closes his eyes briefly before responding. "However, there is less time as a whole." He looks to each of us, willing us to understand the seriousness of our situation.

"There is no telling for sure when You-Know-Who will strike. We have to stay ahead of him. Harry-" he says, looking to Harry who is, as always, at full attention.

"If I am correct, the three of you have plan to leave here in a weeks time?" he asks, pointing to both Harry and I. We assume Ron will be back before our departure, though I am unsure how our relationship will hold, now that the romantic aspect of it has been sucked dry.

Harry nods, he is in business mode now and he eagerly awaits the next set of instructions.

"I don't feel that will be necessary. Why ever would the three of you need to leave again? Can't you just do whatever it is you need to do here?" Mrs. Weasley asks, clearly stating her disapproval of our mission.

Harry's fists ball up; I place a light hand on his knee, hoping this small gesture will ease his nerves.

"It isn't that simple, Mr. Weasley." He says, his fists unclenching.

"Well, I just don't see why not." She responds stiffly.

Ginny cuts in before Harry can retaliate, taking out of her pocket, a rather large coin.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner." She says, thrusting the coin into the middle of the table. Only a handful of the people present at the meeting know what this coin represents.

"Ginny, that's brilliant!" Harry exclaims, reaching for the galleon. He flips it in his hands, remembering why we had ever needed such a device.

"What is it?" Tonks asks, leaning far over the table to get a better look.

"What's so special about a galleon?" she continues.

I speak up for the first time.

"It isn't just any galleon. I designed it specifically for the DA meetings. I had completely forgotten about them…" I say, taking the coin from Harry.

"Pardon me." Mr. Weasley says, looking from Harry and I, to the galleon and back.

"But what is the DA?"

"Nevermind, dad. Harry, don't you see? While the three of you are away, we can all keep in touch." Ginny explains. She is right; however, this would give us a solid form of communication, without the worry of getting caught. The only problem, it doesn't deliver messages. Only dates.

"But it only allows you to see the date of the meetings, Ginny. It can't spell out words." I say, handing the galleon back to her. She takes it, holding it tight within her thumb and forefinger, lost in thought.

"We could use it for emergencies, then. Say, after you have gone and we all need to meet up." She states. This could work…

"I'll need to make more then." I say eagerly. A bubble of hope swells in my chest as I take hold of the coin and place it safely in my pocket.

There is silence for a moment. We seem to have run out of plan; for, it has become increasingly difficult to structure anything, when everything is so sporadic.

"We want to come with you." Says a pair of identical voices. All heads turn toward Fred and George.

"Come with us?" Harry exclaims, looking to them with exasperation.

Fred nods; there is no humor in his statement. He is completely serious, just as George is.

"Absolutely not!" Mrs. Weasley yells, slapping her hand on the table. She has had enough; she can't bear the thought of losing another son to this epic journey Albus Dumbledore has left to us. I do not blame her.

"Mrs. Weasley is right, you guys. I can't allow that…" Harry says solemnly, looking away from the twins.

"Harry, we can-" George juts in but his words are lost to Harry.

"I can't, George. It is too risky; I won't be responsible for another life. I feel bad enough having to bring along Hermione and Ron." He says with an edge.

I can't help but resent his comment. Pressure is something Harry has always struggled to cope with; he fails to see outside of the box and just when I feel he might be understanding the bigger picture, he falls right back into the dark.

"Harry, don't act like this is all on you." I tell him bitterly. He looks to me, eyes flashing.

"Hermione, you know it'd be too dangerous." He tells me. I know this, how could I not. Everything we do now a days is too dangerous but it has to be done.

"I agree. I'm sorry but Harry and I will have to go alone, if Ron has not returned." I say quietly. I do not want to think about Ron right now but it seems inevitable. I know I am the reason for his absence; I am ashamed of myself, how could I have been so stupid…

"Well, from what I've gathered, it doesn't seem like three of you have gotten much done, have you?" you say.

I had almost completely forgotten about you. My mind, too wrapped up in the meeting, in keeping Harry leveled and in forgetting about Ron.

You sit with your arms crossed casually behind your head, legs crossed in a relaxed manner.

"Well, it isn't like we were given a handbook or anything." Harry says defensively. You nod, understanding his statement. You pull your hands down and place them on the table, you lean in, eyes boring into Harry's.

"I feel I may have found my place, then." you say, your eyes flash over to me but are quickly lost to Harry's.

"What do you mean?" he says apprehensively.

"I know what it is you are looking for…" you say, cunningly.

This, this is the thing we forget? How, how is that possible.

"She's right, Harry!" I say excitedly; there is more hope and it threatens to tear at me from the inside.

"I-I didn't even think of that…" he says quietly. It is perfect, almost flawless. You are our key and we have now discovered the lock that you were made for.

"Then it's settled!" you exclaim, returning to your former position.

Just then, the door swings open. Angrily, it slams against the wall, aggravating the foundation of the cottage.

All eyes are on him, he is wet and shivering. His cheeks are stained red and his knuckles are white with rage. His eyes find mine first, I do not turn away. I try my hardest to explain myself, without words but find I cannot portray the correct expression.

"Oh, Ron!" Mrs. Weasley says, jumping up from her seat and running over to her youngest son. Her hands are all over him, checking for any wounds he may have, anything permanent he may have obtained. He gently bats at her, his eyes never leaving mine. Most everyone has stood, waiting for him to say something, to explain where it was that he went. You and I are the only ones that remain seated.

"I'm quite tired." He states, he seems to be only half aware, his face a thick chalk white. "I think I'll go to bed, now."

That is all, he walks passed the room full of people; his steps are weak and it seems he has a limp in his left leg. I do not watch him go but listen as he ascends up the staircase; unable to breathe until I hear the faint click of a door.

I wonder if he is in my room, or if by announcing our break up, has retired to yours.

Mrs. Weasley's hands are cupped over her mouth; her eyes are wide with worry as she turns to her husband.

"Arthur! Go to him, it is obvious that he needs you!"

Mr. Weasley is reluctant to go; his son is of age now, a grown man, completely able of handling his own distresses.

"Molly, I don't think-" he tries but is quickly cut off by his most distraught wife.

"Go! He needs you!" she says again. Mr. Weasley jumps at the sound of her booming voice and quickly he lifts himself out of his chair; begrudgingly, he walks away from the Order and up the stairs, disappearing into the darkness of the hall and to the aid of his son, who seems to be on the brink of breaking.

Ron's return has left us all in a sour mood; unlike before, where we were all stale and solid like old bread. I had thought him smarter than that. I didn't think he'd go and get himself into trouble, or hurt or anything. But apparently, I had given him too much credit.

**oOo**

After Mr. Weasley had left the table, the rest seemed to fade too. Ron and his father had been gone over an hour.

Lupin had made a note, saying that a few of the Order should perimeter the cottage and keep watch, just in case Ron had unknowingly brought back unwanted company.

He, Tonks, the twins and Harry decided to play guard and left almost immediately.

I keep my place at the kitchen table, sitting quietly two seats down from Ginny and across from you. I have a feeling you would not be going anywhere without me; something tells me you don't feel comfortable poking your head around the cottage, until knowing more about Ron and his situation.

The silence is almost unbearable. I quickly grow uncomfortable with Ginny's presence and your unrelenting stare. I feel my face growing warmer; I try to focus on something else, like my fingernails but I no matter what, I cannot keep you out of my line of sight.

Ginny clears her throat, it radiates throughout the small kitchen. She has less to say than I but I will keep my mouth shut until almost physically, it is pried open.

"So…" she says, looking to me and then to you.

I look to her, one eyebrow raised and smile a most pathetic excuse for a smile.

"What do you suppose happened to Ron?" she asks quietly; she has been building up the courage to ask, she knows very well it has something to do with both you and I but she refuses to connect the dots. For that, I am thankful.

"Personally, I think he's just bein a little-" you try to say; there, you've done it, you've pried open my mouth, keeping me from staying silent like I'd like to.

"Bella…don't" I say darkly. Now is not okay; I know you do not have limits but in time, you will learn. I will make sure of it.

Your eyes flash to me; they tell me that you are surprised at my having taken the reigns, you are not used to being told what to do by someone you would normally consider lesser than yourself.

"Oh, pardon me." You say, casually waving a hand, "I had forgotten the soft spot you have for Ginger…" you say, equally as stiff.

Are we arguing? Is this our first "fight"? Interesting… I didn't think we'd make it this far.

"Ginger?" Ginny asks awkwardly, clearly even more uncomfortable than she had been only moments ago.

I look to her, trying my best to ignore you for real this time.

"Ginger, is what she calls Ron. She finds it amusing to poke fun at his red hair….I personally, do not see the humor in it." I say with an edge. One thing you should have never failed to realize is that I am still a woman. I try my hardest to be considerate of others but when it comes down to it, at the end of the day, I am nothing but a woman. I can be catty, passive and sarcastic; just as I expect you can be.

Sex with you, does not change that.

"Oh, well look at you, actin all protective and whatnot." You say, the corner of your mouth lifts into a half smile. You are messing with me; it drives me mad, in more than one way.

I narrow my eyes, hoping you'll understand that I am in no mood…

Ginny, I can see from the corner of my eye, shifts awkwardly.

"Well, I best be getting to bed…if you hear anything about Ron, Hermione…" she says, moving from her seat. I look to her briefly.

"I'll let you know."

I hadn't noticed Mrs. Weasley leave the room; my guess is that she had been gone for some time, because when I turned to check if we were alone, everything was in its proper place; clean and tidy.

"You are ridiculous!" I whisper angrily at you. You cannot help the smile that grows wider on your face; you think I am being cute; however, I can assure you, I am anything but, in this moment.

"I'm not being funny, Bellatrix." I spit. I watch you lean back in your chair, arms crossing protectively over your chest.

"You are too sensitive." You say lightly. You fail to understand the severity of our situation. Ron could have really gotten hurt, could have been caught; or worse, he could have brought our enemies back with him.

"And call me, Bella, dear. My name sounds so much better when you say it like that…" you say somewhat seductively.

I'm trying not to let your words get to me; it would be so wrong of me to let anything sexual happen with you right now.

"Stop…" I say in frustration. You know that green light I gave you earlier? Well, it is now red and I must forewarn you, if you continue on this way, it will remain as such for quite some time.

"Or what?" you tease, leaning over the kitchen table. I never thought you'd make me so angry. It isn't even that you've done much of anything but you keep pushing, that's what is bothering me.

At least Ron actually did things worth getting upset over.

"I'm warning you, Bellatrix…" I whisper heatedly. I really don't think, if it came down to it, that I would even have the courage to challenge you; I'm sure I would be put in my place fairly quick but I can always pretend that the situation would play out differently.

"Bella, dear." You respond, winking an eye in my direction. My fists clench, I remember to breathe; I close my eyes, thinking of nothing. Lashing out will get me know where. I must remain calm.

"Goodnight." I tell you, standing from my seat in haste.

Instantly, your smile fades and your expression floods with anxiety. For, you have yet to discover where you will be sleeping and out of everything that there is to be frightened of, in this moment, it is the ascension of the stairs by yourself, which scares you the most.

I walk away, my back toward you. I can hear the screech of wood on wood as you push yourself from the table.

"I was only jokin, you know." You tell me, hoping you still have a chance to redeem yourself.

I welcome the smile that tickles at my lips; you do not see it, as my back is still toward you.

I relish in my victory.

You follow close behind; I can almost feel your breath on my neck, breeding a wild outbreak of goose bumps to rise on my skin. It seems there isn't a single part of me that does not react by you. I can feel your fingers innocently attempt to grab at my hand; I pretend not to notice and carry on up the stairs.

The hall is dark and eerie. Someone is snoring in a back bedroom. I turn to you, one finger placed over my lips. I hold my breath as I move over the floorboards. I am now in front of my door and instantly relief spreads through me. In your room, I can hear muffled voices. The conversation being held is spoken quickly, sometimes angrily; and other times there is deep sadness. I cannot tell whose voice is whose but my guess is that the person doing most of the talking is, Ron.

I try not to let his emotions stab at me but I find it extremely difficult.

However, there is now I gentle hand tickling the soft skin on my hip. Your fingers have somehow, without my noticing, snaked their way under the hem of my shirt. I try to stifle my gasp as you step closer; I can feel your breasts as you press yourself against my back. I bat at you as I try to focus in on the conversation taking place in your room.

It is useless, I can barely make out their words as is and with your curious fingers feathering over my body, it is like trying to listen through an Extendable Ear that has been stuffed with cotton.

"Come to bed…" you whisper devilishly. I close my eyes, loving the way your warm breath heats up my neck.

You steer me toward my…our door and just as the handle turns, with your assistance, there are words spoken so clear, they are like ice.

It is Ron and as he yells, he is shameless, almost as though his goal is to wake the world with his discovery.

"They're sleeping together, dad! That Death Eater and Hermione!"


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm back! :)**

**One last thing. I just want to inform everyone, this story was not written just to get these two characters in the sack; sex was not the point to this story. I hope this does not turn you away, however, I must forewarn you, this chapter is M rated. **

I thought I would die that day.

But, of course, I was wrong.

As I stand in the hall, the darkness that surrounds me seems to constrict. It blocks my sight, closes my throat and threatens to eat away at my skin.

As far as I am concerned, I'm alone; except for Ron's words that relentlessly bounce around in my head.

"_They're sleeping together, dad! That Death Eater and Hermione!"_

It is all I can hear; nothing can erase those words. I feel my body stiffen and turn to ice. I want so badly to scream; to tear into his bedroom and defend myself.

I had done nothing of the sort; I had not slept with you, nor were we sleeping together. Not yet anyway but that was my only defense; without that, he would have been right and I would have had nothing to fight with.

You knew something was wrong, for you had heard the same as I; but things like this, they don't bother you; you've always loved a good fight, you strive off controversy. The same words I heard formed differently in your head and their consequences do not register. As far as you were concerned, everything was fine. I had felt that maybe you thought it not wrong for the rest to know; that this is how it should have been from the beginning. And perhaps you were right, maybe I shouldn't had tried so hard to keep us hidden but you can't blame me for my hesitance, Bella…

I'd never been with another woman before, nor did I ever think I would. It was hard, falling in love with you; not so much the _You_ aspect of it but more the _Me_ aspect.

-I had always been so sure of myself; I knew exactly who I was, until you came around. You destroyed everything I thought to be normal, to be right. You opened up a door inside me that I never knew I had and a part of me wonders what life would have been like had it never been discovered; if I'd be in the situation I am in now. Perhaps if you had never come around, if we had managed to escape the Snatchers that brought me to you, I'd be sitting happily right now, in the comfort of Ron's arms...

I'm not saying I regret you but I'll always wonder how my life could have turned out.-

My blood begins to boil; I am so angry I cannot even form words. You are still behind me; your chin rests on my shoulder. I feel your curls caress my cheek as you turn your mouth to my ear.

"Forget him, Love…" you whisper; your breath like a soft spring breeze.

I want to tell you that I can't; that he has done irreversible damage; that we're both waist deep in shit. But of course, I don't. I would never…

I find my tongue and twist it into a chunky sentence.

"We're-in so much trouble, Bella…"

I hear you chuckle; you find my troubled state of mind amusing. I do not see the humor in our situation.

"You worry too much. Let the brat say what he wants…." You whisper again, trailing your tongue lightly up my neck.

I can't suppress the shiver that runs through me; or the heat that settles below my belt.

"Who'd believe him?" you say finally.

You make a good point.

I do not respond to your comment and so you turn the doorknob with a firm grip. The door swings open and I feel myself being steered inside. I'm surprised I can actually move; my legs are stiff as if they're made of lead but then your hands find their way to my hips and instantly I melt; my whole body is made of water at this point and I'm afraid I might fall apart. In fact, I'm sure I would, if it weren't for your hands holding me together…

You kick the door closed and now, we are alone. I keep my eyes closed and try to calm. Your smell helps greatly and I allow it to fill me up; trying to focus on nothing but the faint scent of cigarettes and roses.

I feel this is it. After all that Ron has said, after being interrupted so many times… in this moment, I can feel our own begin to unfold and my legs begin to shake with anticipation.

Your fingers trail up my arms and in their path, my skin begins to prickle. Your mouth is back, whispering in my ear.

"Relax, Hermione…You don't have to be afraid. I don't bite…hard…" You tease, chucking lightly. My stomach flips, I let out an airy breath. This may be the first time in which you say my name; it drives me mad.

I want to reply but my mind draws a blank and before I know it, you have me on our bed. My legs hang over the edge, just barely touching the hardwood below. You get into your favorite position as I try to stay conscious.

Your legs hold tight to my sides and my hands instinctively settle on your hips; your arms standing like great pillars next to my head. We haven't even done anything yet but both of us are breathing heavy. There is too much excitement in this room.

Finally, I find myself.

"I-I don't know…" I mutter weakly, "Ron…"

You lean in, your lips mere centimeters from mine. I want to focus on your eyes but I find my own pinned to the readiness of your mouth; I lick my lips and feel my own begin to water.

"Forget about him. He's nothing and you know it." You say defensively; I have a feeling that my reluctance to touch you because of my former boyfriend, who sits only right across the hall, is starting to gnaw at you.

I know there is nothing I can do to get myself out of your grip, even if I wanted to. I know that tonight you're getting what you want, even if I were to protest.

"He's already said you'd done it…so, why not do it, then?" you say, a playful half smile forming on your lips.

I want to reply but it seems you have some bizarre control over my body; it does what you want it to, when you want it to but when I find myself needing it to focus for my own benefit, it falls flat.

All I know is that you have made yet another good point. Damn you and your logic…

Your smile never fades and I watch as you slip your wand out from the band that you keep wrapped around your thigh. You point it at the door and mutter a soft spell. I know this spell and instantly I am plunge back into nervousness.

The spell you've used locks our door and keeps all sounds from the inside, out. No one will be able to hear us, nor will they be able to barge in and catch us doing something we shouldn't be doing.

"There we are…" you say, focusing back on me, "No more interruptions." You waste no time; you need this and I'm beginning to feel I may need it, too.

This kiss is something I've never experienced before. I keep a firm grip on the frills of your dress as I try to keep pace with your lips. You've got a hand holding my chin in place; you have full control. I do not fight against you; I know how it could turn out if I try.

I feel your teeth bite down on my bottom lip, pulling out of me, a deep aching moan. I hate you for that. Hearing myself enjoy physical pleasure always distracts me. I've always managed to keep silent with Ron but apparently with you, I have no choice.

"Oh…have I found your sweet spot?" You whisper into my neck, which you lightly nip.

I want to participate; I want to make you feel good too but once again, I've never done this before. I have no idea where to start; you seem to have a lot of experience. This tells me, I am not the first woman you have slept with.

I watch as you sit up; your chest rises and falls in haste, as does mine. Your smile does not fade as your fingers begin to unlace the bodice of your dress.

For some reason, this is when my motor kicks in. I sit up, never once looking from your eyes. I see lust in them; swirling and building within the depth of your black pools. I lift a pair of shaking hands to the lace, pulling slowly. It loosens and the straps from your dress slip past your shoulders, revealing glowing white skin. It is though you are made of porcelain. I am almost afraid to touch you any further, in fear you might break.

You take your hands and curl your fingers over the bust of the dress; pulling slowly. You're leaving me time to decide if this is what I really want; and even though I know I really have no choice, I appreciate the gesture, nonetheless.

I reach up and gently push your hands away, replacing them with my own; I'm telling you I want this, I need this.

Finally, it slips past your chest, revealing for the first time, a perfect pair of breasts; Of course I am biased, I have nothing to compare them to.

I'm overwhelmed; I can't help but take my hands back, bracing my weight with my arms. You chuckle; I feel you had forgotten how innocent I was.

"It's okay, Love…There's really no rush… We've got all the time in the world." You assure me, lightly trailing your fingers up the skin on my arms. I feel that your words only hold a slight truth.

I look up to you, hoping my flush cheeks aren't noticeable within the darkness of the room.

"I know…I just, don't know what it is I am doing…" I admit, feeling slightly foolish. I know this bit of information must be a turn off; I would not be surprised if you didn't want to continue.

I watch as you lift your hand to my cheek, brushing your fingers gently across it.

"It is quite obvious but I am not worried about such petty things." You tell me sweetly, grabbing hold of my still shaking hands and pulling them up to your bosom.

The contact drags breath out from both of us.

You are so soft, so smooth… like nothing I've ever felt.

"See?" you say in between breaths, "Wasn't so hard…"

I look up to you, my eyes wide with awe. Everything about you I find beautiful. There are no blemishes, you have no faults…

Slowly you lean in, closing the distance between us once more. My eyes are closed, as are yours; we focus on only each other, nothing matters anymore.

I am not worried about being discovered. I am not concerned with what it might mean to have you naked in my bed. Age is only a number and status does not exist.

I tangle my hands within your hair; the curls falling over me in thick black locks; I'm losing myself in you and I'm loving it. You take this time and start on me. I hardly notice until you've lifted my shirt over my head. This makes me nervous. You've had years to develop, to grow in to a proper woman; whereas I still have the physique of a much younger girl. But it doesn't seem like that matters to you; I do not feel that you are judging me based on my appearance. I take a breath of relief, allowing you to unhook my bra. I watch as you toss it to the floor and subconsciously, I cross my arms over my chest; keeping myself hidden from your eyes.

"None of that, now." You say, softly pulling my arms away. We keep our eyes locked; I feel a gentle pressure on my shoulders and slowly I go down, flat on my back. You shower me in kisses; my neck my chest, my lips…until finally, your mouth makes its way to one of my nipples. This is not an unfamiliar feeling; however, I have grown used to the rough surface of Ron's chin.

I can't help the noises I make, I try to stifle them but they tear through my throat as you bite down. I can feel your smile and it travels downwards. I look to you but find you are preoccupied with the belt that is tightly fastened around my waist.

You are trying your hardest at keeping a slow pace, for my sake but I can't help but feel we are still moving too quick.

"W-wait…" I say, sitting up. My pants have already been undone by this point and you continue to nip at the sensitive skin right above the band of my panties. It sends shivers up through my core; making my attempts to slow you down, extremely difficult.

Finally, you look up and see my disheveled expression.

"What is it?" you say with a sly smile. I take a deep breath, trying my best to form a sentence.

"Don't you think we're moving a bit fast?" I ask timidly. You cock your head to the side, an eye brow raised in thought.

"Why, not at all. In fact," You say, crawling back toward me. I'm on my back again, looking up into your eyes, "I feel we are moving quite slow. Why don't we pick it up a bit?" You say without giving me time to answer. I forget my argument the moment your tongue enters my mouth. I knew you weren't telling the whole truth; there was a rush, not to get to the finish line but to the main event, yes.

-You were not rough with me, nor was your touch invasive in any way. I wanted this, all of this; I only needed the push, which is what you gave me.-

I can't help myself, or the moan that rips from my throat as we continue with our kiss. I keep my eyes closed; trying my best to stay clear headed and focused. That quickly fades when I noticed the hand that slips into my pants. You are not shy, this much I have learned and fairly quick. I feel pain but as soon as it comes, it is gone; you have left bite marks on my collar bone.

I look to them and then to you; you've drawn blood.

This sparks something new inside me; the pain, the bruises you've left, it excites me and I find I'm needing more. This is strange for me but I decide to play on it.

I push on your shoulders, feeling the absence of your hand and watch as you sit on your knees.

"What is it?" you say breathlessly, wiping away my saliva from the corner of your mouth. I am silent for a moment, watching the bruise you have given me darken in shades. My eyes find yours and this, Bella, is the moment you changed me.

It wasn't the mark left of my skin that pulled me free, it was more than that. You showed me so many sides to myself I didn't know I had. In this moment, I realized it was you I wanted; from that point on, nothing would be the same. You were mine and I, yours; nothing would change that. Not even time, unfortunately.

I sit up, my fingers lightly caressing the raised edges of your bite marks. I wipe away the blood on the sheets and take my other hand around the back of your neck.

"My turn." I say with a new confidence. I pull you toward me; I am rough and rushed as we lean into another kiss. This time, it is you who is on their back; I take this opportunity to learn the curves of your body. I travel downwards, hastily untying the lace to the rest of your bodice. I tear it off and let it fall to the floor; you're breathing heavy and watching me with a wicked smile. I mirror it and start on the skirt of the dress; it is off in seconds. There, I stop and take in your naked form. It is so unfamiliar and yet, completely natural.

Our situation is a difficult one for me to decipher; I never thought I was gay, not even now and I never thought that what we had was about that. I feel that human beings take sexual orientation too seriously; gender is irrelevant when it comes to love. These thoughts help me to move on to the next step and with that, I lean down and lick my way down to your navel; loving the responses you give me. I feel your fingers weave their way into my hair, aggressively tugging at it every now and then. This tells me, what I am doing is pleasing you.

After a few moments of my relentless teasing, you prop yourself on your elbows. I look to you, a shameless smile gracing my face. Even through that dark I can tell you're flushed; your chest rises and falls with greedy breaths.

"Seriously, girl, are you trying to kill me?" you ask, falling back into the pillows. I can't help but laugh, I had barley even touched you and I was already driving you mad; this makes my stomach bubble and my skin prickle with excitement.

Before I continue, I realize I had never done anything like this before but then I think, what would I like? I know what I like, what Ron would do that would drive me insane. I decide to start there, enough foreplay.

I set in, nervously pushing your legs apart; I can hear you sigh with relief. You are aching as I am and the waiting has made it almost painful. I travel down your thighs, only stopping for a bite or brief kiss on them.

This was what I am most afraid of, having to please you orally. I didn't think I could do it but as I hover above you, your arousal thick and sweet, I can't help but find I am eager to taste you. My hair fans out on your stomach and your nails dig into the back of my neck, unable to wait any longer. I close my eyes and timidly, I continue.

Why, it isn't bad at all and the praises I am getting from you make my head swirl; I proceed with greed. My hand holds firm on your hip, keeping you in place; your own have moved from my neck to the sheets; you're beginning to lose control but I wonder if it is all for show; if you are acting this way to make me feel better, surely I can't be that good.

I smile nonetheless; taking a curious finger and incorporating it into the mix of things. I'm guessing I have done right, seeing as I've got you making noises that should wake the house.

Perhaps another? You are my experiment tonight, Bella. I will use you and test your boundaries until I am sure I had a most exceptional method.

After weeks of trying to snuff out the sexual tension between us and then finally being able to act on those feelings, it doesn't take long before you reach your peek. It is invigorating and I lick at you until you've quite literally pushed me away.

You have me by the hair and as you sit up, you pull me forward, taking my lips in yours. We're both out of breath, sweating and tired but every nerve on my body tingles, aches and burns from your touch and the anticipation of what is to come.

"You say you've never done this before?" You ask breathlessly, looking at me through heavily lidded eyes. I can see the exhaust on your face and in the pale moonlight, your skin glows from the sheen of sweat covering you body. I bite down on my lip, unable to keep from smiling.

"No, never…" I say, trying to hide my pleasure from the words you spoke.

You fall back and let out a draw out sigh, trying to normalize your breathing.

"No wonder Ginger is nervous." You say with a chuckle, "I wouldn't want to share you either…"

I try to ignore your comment and climb in next to you. You allow the pressure of my head to rest on your shoulder and absentmindedly, I draw circles with my finger on your stomach. I can see the goose bumps rise on your skin from my touch, this pleases me further and as I look up to you, expecting our romp to continue, I find you already fast asleep.

I prop myself up, having to get a better look. I won't lie and say I didn't expect something different but I have grow quite used to this; what with Ron out cold as soon as he is finished.

I don't hold it against you, instead, I merely take in your sleeping form; allowing the corner of my mouth to lift into a half smile. I kick off my pants and reapply my bra, taking my former place on your shoulder. I guess I am more tired then I thought because I too am fast asleep before my eyes can fully close.


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm putting out two chapters, because I've been gone so long.**

**I am actually almost completely finished with this story. **

**I find, without the internet, I get a lot more done.**

**:P**

I roll over, pushing the aches and pains that course through my body, into the back of my mind. I am still so tired but my eyes shoot open the moment I realize you are not there next to me. I sit up, my groggy eyes in search for something that is absent from my room. I tear out of bed and stumble on half asleep feet to the door but before I can make it there, I catch myself in the reflection in the mirror. My hair is in knots and my neck and chest are spotted with bite marks and bruises. Hastily, I pull on my clothes and run my fingers quickly through the tangles on my head. Every part of me is wondering why you have gone, where you are and if I am in any trouble from Ron's accusations.

I can't leave the room quite yet, not when you can still see the battle marks I have obtained; they scream guilty. I pad over to my bag and pull out of it, a scarf that Mrs. Weasley had knitted for me years ago. I tie it tight around my neck and throw on a thick sweater. I waste no more time; I am out the door in seconds, walking quickly down the hallway. Something in my stirs; as I make my way down the staircase, I can't help but notice how unsettlingly quite it is. It must be nearing noon, why don't I smell food? Why is no one laughing or talking? I slow my pace and creep into the living room, from there I see everyone awake and dressed, seated quietly around the kitchen table. Their eyes fall on me and instantly, my cheeks flush.

"Good morning…" I say nervously. Mr. Weasley is the first to reply,

"Morning, Hermione. Please, would you join us?" he says, I am unsure how to read his comment. There is something he is not telling me but I can't be too sure what it is. I nod and take the empty chair next to him and Harry. I look across the table to Lupin who holds a piece of torn parchment in one hand and his chin in the other.

"What's going on?" I ask anxiously, looking back and forth between Harry and Mr. Weasley. This is when I notice Ron's absence, which comes to no surprise to me.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Lupin says sincerely, sliding the parchment toward me. My brow knits together as I reach forward and take the letter with shaking hands.

I do not read it out loud; for I am sure it has already been read by each of the people seated around me. I find there stares extremely distracting. I take a breath and try to make sense of the note.

_**Hermione- I have gone. I do not know if I will return. It is unlike the Dark Lord to keep from calling on me for so long. I fear he may know more than I expected. I wish things could have turned out differently, Love. **_

_**Try to forget…**_

_**-Two lie within the castle- his most prized, around his neck- the unnoticed, on the face of your hero. **_

_**Forever yours, Bellatrix**_

I feel sick. My fingers have gone numb and the room begins to spin. I drop the letter and watch as it soundlessly hits the table.

"Hermione…" Harry says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I shake him off and push myself from my seat. I can feel my heart in my chest; sweat begins to drip from my brow. I tear off my scarf and pull myself out of my sweater, uncaring of my marks. I know they are the first thing everyone sees; however, they say nothing and continue watching with me worried eyes. I stumble into the living room and see Lupin move from the corner of my eye; he walks to me with hurried steps. His hands are firm on my shoulders, keeping me steady.

"Come." He says, trying to steer me into a back room. I shake him off as I did, Harry.

"No…" I say in a voice that is unfamiliar to me. I do not sound like myself, nothing is making sense.

Why, Bella? Why are you doing this? Surely you had to know this was coming, why did you set me up like this? Without you here, I am a cheat, a liar and a coward. I can see Lupin's blurry figure step forward and attempt to take hold of me once more. I turn on my heel and make for the door to the cottage. In that instant, I can hear the screeching of wood on wood as everyone moves from their seat.

It is warm outside and the breeze that is carried in from the current whips my hair into my face. I take the steps two at a time and land on the sand with unsteady feet. I pick up my pace when the sound of the cottage door opens. Someone is following me; I do not look to see who.

I don't want to talk or explain or tell them how I feel. All I want is to be alone. I want to leave; to go somewhere far away. I wish I was still in the tent, deep in some forest, protected by charms and spells.

The sun is bright as it beats against my face. I do not let myself think, I follow my feet; I trust them to take me somewhere familiar.

I'm out of breath when I reach the top of the incline. I run forward and land on the lush grass that settles at the foot of our tree. I close my eyes, they were useless anyway. I let myself fall from my sitting position and try to find comfort within the soft grass; weaving my fingers through the thin blades.

I am still so tired, even more so, now. I let myself slip away, trying my best to forget…

I wake to find the sun low in the sky, my head resting heavily on a bony knee. I feel a gentle hand stroke my hair and attempt to rid my face of the tears I don't remember shedding.

"It's funny how things turn out. One minute, you're sure you've got it down, the next, you haven't a clue which way is up." Harry says comfortingly. I push myself from his lap, my head pounds angrily. I keep my eyes averted from his; I care not what they say.

"Hermione…" he says quietly, scooting in next to me. I bow my head, focusing intently on my fingers. "Pull yourself together. We can't afford to lose you." He says firmly, taking my hands in his. I pull away, unwilling to allow myself comfort. Quickly, he takes them back, demanding my eyes.

"We'll leave in two days; can you wait two more days?" He asks. I keep silent.

He lets out a small sigh, "The letter tells us, two lie within the castle but I'm unsure of where to find the others…" he says trailing off, "But it's a start."

I do not respond. All I know is that if we leave and you do come back, I won't be here. Finally, I look to him; my eyes red and puffy. I nod once and move to stand. He follows suit and together we leave the tree, making our way back to the cottage.

I'll have to thank Harry for getting me into my room in one piece. He had led me through the crowd of our friends and up the stairs before anyone had managed to ask any prying questions; I am sincerely grateful. I step into my room and turn to look at him, a hand resting weakly on the doorknob. My eyes can barely meet his but the dark green orbs staring back at me are strong enough for the both of us.

"Ron has left, Hermione..." he says in all seriousness. My insides churn at this bit of information but on the outside I try my best to remain complacent. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley told us this morning, after we all discovered the note. I assume he had left shortly after, Bellatrix…" he says softly. Once again, I feel a biting nausea swirl in the depths of my stomach. "They won't tell us where he went; they're the only ones who know." He continues, trying to get everything out before his time clock hits zero.

"They did say though, that he was safe and that they were sure he'd come around soon enough." He takes a step toward me, placing a loving hand upon my shoulder; this time, I allow it.

"Don't blame yourself. After all, we don't choose who we fall in love with." He assures me, closing the distance between us and planting a friendly kiss on my flush cheek.

Love…. What was he talking about? I didn't love you, not then…at least I didn't think I did….

I close the door as he turns from me. I hear his descent of the staircase and as the dawning realization of your absence sets in; I decide at that moment, that I would never love you.

I know your leaving was beyond your control. You had a duty to fulfill and a part to play, I understand that. My feelings are irrational but they are all I have. My being angry at you keeps me from worrying, keeps me from being sad; my anger keeps me from missing you, Bella.

Being mad is easy; being sad brings with it all the other useless emotions that I can't afford to feel at the moment.

I sit on my bed, letting the day roll on without me; I should pack but something keeps me from doing so; a part of me knows that the moment my bags are filled, you will return, the other tells me, I should leave before that happens.

I lie down, too tired to think. I'll only rest my eyes, just for a bit.

**oOo**

I feel myself trip back into reality when a pair of gentle hands nudge me awake. I smile in my sleep, thinking for a moment that those hands belong to you but when I finally open my dreary eyes, I discover it is Ginny. She sits next to me, a defeated sort of look plastered to her face.

"Supper is ready." She says sadly. I sit up, placing a hand to my head in hopes to cease the spinning of the room.

"What time is it?" I ask tiredly. It takes her a moment to reply, "Nearing midnight…we had another meeting. No one wanted to wake you but I figured you'd be hungry by now; you haven't eaten a thing all day." She says concernedly. I try to smile my thanks but fail greatly.

"Thank you." Is all I say before I push myself from my bed. Every inch of me aches in protest; my body is telling me to go back to sleep. I ignore it.

"Harry will fill you in on what was talked about." Ginny says, walking next to me. I nod and together, we exit my room.

"Also…" she continues, reaching into her pocket. " I took the liberty of making more of those galleons…I hope you don't mind…" she finishes, handing me one of the coins.

I had completely forgotten about those…didn't we just talk about that last night? How did she have time to make more in such a short time frame?

"Oh…" I say, pocketing it. "But how did you already make more?" I ask, looking to her with interest. She shrugs as if it were an easy task.

"Well, I only made two…one for you and one for Harry…I have the other. It didn't take long; you could have done it faster." She says, unwilling to take my compliment. I nod and head down the stairs.

I grow anxious, dreading having to look into the faces of all my friends. I am embarrassed at my behavior from earlier; I do not know how to explain myself, or if I'll be able to.

I enter the living room and I find everyone scattered throughout, all preoccupied in their own doings. None look upset, in fact, all of them seem quite happy. Mrs. Weasley is setting out supper and humming a hopeful tune while her husband sits by a dying fire, reading something unfamiliar to me. Fred and George are huddled close together, talking quickly and quietly; my guess is that they are discussing a new product of theirs. Tonks and Lupin I find are not present and Harry is lounging on the couch; he holds onto a fairly large glass shard, staring intently into his reflection.

No one notices me; this I like but I know what is expected of me. So, I put on my mask and lightly I cough into my hand, demanding the attention of the room.

All eyes are on me.

"Hello…" I say awkwardly. Mrs. Weasley is the first to respond. She sets down a large pot of stew and shuffles over.

"Oh, Hermione." She says, steering me to the table. "Are you hungry, dear?" she asks without giving me time respond, "What am I saying, of course you are. You must be famished!" she exclaims, loading my plate for me. I smile up at her, trying my best to seem happy.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasly."

She takes the seat across from me and as she does so, the rest of the room follows suit. We all tuck in, ignoring the elephant that sits quietly next to each of us.

This silence is almost unbearable. Aside from the occasional slurp and clink of silverware, there are no sounds. I try my best to focus on only my food; to keep my mind clear of everything. I eat slow, feeling if I were to eat any faster, I may be sick. Every so often, an image of you flashes before my eyes. It makes my skin crawl. The images come in many forms, most of which I have never seen before.

Most common is what Voldemort may be doing to you at this exact moment; I wonder if he is the reason you needed my help…needed help in the first place.

I give my head a subtle shake, trying to physically rid my mind of you. Slowly, the group disperses until the only ones left at the table are myself, Harry and surprisingly, Lupin. I hadn't even noticed him. He hadn't been there a moment ago…

I push my plate away, it is still half filled with food but the sight of it makes my stomach tighten. I look to Harry, who watches me awkwardly. I try not to notice. As I look away, I can see the shard of glass; he holds it tightly in his hand. My eyes travel up the worn suit of Lupin. I wonder then, why it is that he never bought new ones. Surely he isn't that poor.

I stop at his necktie, unable to meet his face, although, I already know what it is saying. It conveys a mix of emotions. He is unsure of how to comfort me, or if he even should. He wants to lecture me about the wrong I have done but assure me that none of this is my fault. He knows, as well as I, that if it hadn't been for my curiosity, no one would be half as upset about you leaving; and Ron would still be here.

He draws me in with his voice, it is low and sure.

"Hermione, I'd like to speak with you a moment." He says, pushing himself up from his seat. I don't want to go, I don't want to hear what he has to say and pretend that I'm learning something based on his insightful intellect.

He walks passed me, he smells of patchouli and ash. I can see him disappear from the corner of my eye; this is when I move to stand. I look to Harry, who remains seated, before I turn from him; he flashes me a weary smile.

My steps are long and drawn aside from Lupin's breaking patience. I swim through the tension of the room and find him standing in the doorway of his own.

"Please, come in." He gestures. I walk passed him, feeling it inappropriate to be alone in his room. However, he has dressed it in a very appropriate manner. The bed is tight and nicely made, at the far end of the room sits a small table. There are two chairs, one placed on either side.

He takes his seat at one of them and I, the other. He studies me a moment, trying to shuffle his words accordingly.

"Hermione…" he starts off, finally, I make eye contact. He seems tired, almost defeated.

"I just…" he trails off, losing his confidence. "How are you?" he starts again.

What an odd question. I wonder how I am supposed to answer, should I be honest or should I do what everyone else does when faced with the same question?

"I'm fine, professor." I lie. He lies too, in his smile.

"Hermione, how many times have I told you? Please, call me Remus."

I smile weakly and nod.

"I brought you back here for a specific reason, though I don't expect for us to jump straight to the point. I felt that maybe there was something you might want to talk about. You've seemed a bit tense lately." He says hopefully.

Still, I don't know how to respond. What am I supposed to say?

Sure, there are many things I would like to talk about but not with him.

"Perhaps a little…" I say quietly, giving him something to bite at. He nods knowingly, lacing in his fingers.

"I thought so." He says, trying to find the courage to ask what is really on his mind. I let him struggle, not wanting to give him too much. Finally, after a few long moments his search is over.

"Hermione, may I ask you something personal?"

Perhaps I can hide the lies, if I simply just bury them.

"I guess…" I'll play dumb or something.

He shifts in his seat. "I have to say, there are some rumors going around about your and Bellatrix's relationship . I don't want to know details." He says, lifting a hand up to cease my response. He continues, "It is obvious to us, your new found affection for the former Death Eater. I can't say I approve but as a human being and as a friend… I will not judge; we do not choose who we fall in love with and with that, I will support you." He says finally, I can see the sparkle in his eyes.

Something I have only just recently discovered in yours.

Although, I resent his statement of disapproval, I cannot help but feel something warm toward him. I have never not liked Remus Lupin; however, I have never had the chance, as Harry has, to build any kind of friendship with him. Perhaps that can change now…

Except, I don't know if I'm ready to admit anything out loud. He's caught me off guard, erasing my former plan.

"I don't know what to say…" I respond. It is subtle enough that he'll know what it is I am talking about; it also gives me the option to leave out specifics.

He shakes his head, "You don't have to say anything, not if you don't want to."

Silence.

"Just be sure, Hermione." He says sternly, leaning toward me over the table, "Be sure this is what you want, be sure you're ready to lose the ones you've called friends. Not everyone will accept your choices. A lot of us won't know what to make of it. There are a lot of risks you are taking. Make sure she is worth it…" he says finally.

His words hit me hard and sit heavily in my gut. I had never thought if it quite like that.

I'm growing tired of keeping my thoughts to myself. Remus, he's opened himself up, giving me room to vent. I'm unsure if he knows what he's gotten himself into.

I sigh, feeling anxious. I'm starting to feel sick, as if I might vomit but it isn't vomit that spews from my mouth; it is everything I've kept inside far too long.

"It's _his_ fault. None of this would have happened if he wasn't such a git. He left me…he left us and in doing so, he crushed everything that could have been." I say in one breath. I see Remus's eyebrows raise, he is overwhelmed.

I continue in haste, "We got taken to Malfoy Manor…I know you know this already. She had carved into my skin; with her very own blade…I hated her more than ever. I don't know why I agreed to help her after that…but I did and I don't feel bad, I'm not sorry." I pause but only briefly, "She had confided in me. It's strange, this whole thing. I don't know what it means and I'm not trying to; but I do know that I like it. I feel better, stronger, I feel safer when she's around." By this point, I am mostly talking to myself. I'm saying everything that I couldn't say, letting it all out; for if I hadn't, I'm sure I would have exploded. Quite literally.

"Hermione-"

"But I'm so scared…about everything. What'll happen to Ron? What will that mean for the three of us? What about You-Know-Who? What will everyone think? I just don't know…" I say hurriedly, completely unaware that Remus had tried to speak. I'm breathing heavy, my cheeks I can feel are bright red.

I wipe away the sweat on my forehead, averting my eyes from his. My hands shake as I lower them to the table.

"I'm sorry…" I whisper, feeling embarrassed. He reaches over and takes my hands in his.

"Hermione…don't be. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to share such intimate thoughts. I will keep them safe." He assures.

I'm feeling better. I needed to rid myself of those thoughts, to talk to someone who I knew would not judge. However, I feel I may need to leave soon. The walls are coming in close; I have admitted too much, even to myself.

"Remus." I say awkwardly, "thank you….I have to go now."

He tries to protest but it's becoming difficult for me to breathe; I push his words away and move quickly to the door. Even out in the hall can I feel the weight of my discovery begin fill my stomach. I try to calm. Deep breaths; I can't afford another over reaction. Deeeep breaathess.

It isn't working; the room is starting to tilt. I make my way through the living room, Harry is quickly on my heel but he keeps quiet. He is only there to comfort me; something I feel I do not deserve at all.

The outside air is sweet and cool and I cannot get enough of it.

I'm trying not to hyperventilate, I need to sit. I land heavily on the dirty porch, Harry does the same.

I can tell he is trying hard not to say anything, to let me figure out a way to relax but this is Harry we are talking about.

"Hermione…?" he asks, unsure of what else to say. I look to him, pulling in large gulps of air.

"What's wrong, do you need something?

I shake my head, finally normalizing my breathing.

"No…no, I'm fine." I assure, resting my face in the palms of my hands.

After everything; all the death, the loss, the breakage, the suffering…the disconnect, it is now that I have my first panic attack. It is because of you, Bella.

I didn't choose this; if I had I would not be in this position. I would have never given you the time of day.

But thinking in such a way is a waste of energy; those thoughts are pointless and irrelevant to the situation.

"Just give it time…it won't hurt as much later on. Sooner or later, she'll only be a memory…" he tells me, thinking he's helping. He isn't, in fact, I feel he's made it worse. I don't want to forget; God, what have I done?

"No…" I tell him, standing up, "I don't accept that." he too stands and looks to me with hard eyes.

"You don't really have much choice, do you?" he's trying to get me to understand. He wants to help me out before I sink and remain lost.

I return the gaze, unwilling to hear him out.

"I do. I'll…just…wait."

He steps closer and takes my shoulders in his hands.

"Wait for what, Hermione? Wait for her to return? Wait for You-Know-who to win the war? To kill off everyone you love and care about? We don't have the time to just wait around. He's already got the Elder Wand; it makes me sick to think what he could accomplish, what he has already accomplished in the time we've been here!" he exclaims. He's cheeks are flush; I guess I hadn't realized how much stress he's been in. The only thing I've been thinking about is myself; everyone else I've felt, has just been enjoying their time.

How idiotic of me.

"I'm sorry, Harry." I say gently. He lets his hands fall, turning away from me.

"It isn't your fault…" he assures me, running a hand through the mess that is his hair.

"It's just, all this." He says, motioning wide with his arms. "Being here, it was good at first but now…We're just wasting time."

He's right, we're losing time; I can feel it.

"Then, let's go…tonight." I say, stepping forward. He turns to me, anxiousness flooding his face.

"But what about-"

"You're right, Harry. I can't just wait around…as much as I'd like to, I can't and it isn't fare that I do so. If we want to come out of this alive, we have to get moving."

I try to push my feelings aside; I've already let them get the best of me.

He nods thoughtfully.

"Then we'll have to get everything together."

"It won't take me very long to repack; most everything is still in my bag." I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I think it best if we leave after everyone is asleep. That way we'll be able to avoid questions." He states. I nod, feeling numb.

I still don't accept the fact that I may never see you again; somehow, I know we are not over.

"Okay, Hermione." He says, "It's only us two now…" he is sad but I can tell he tries not to show it. I smile weakly from the corner of my mouth, allowing myself comfort for what feels like the first time in days. We embrace, my face buried in the crook of his neck. He is strong and he carries the majority of my weight without struggle.

"We can do this." He mutters; there is still a shadow of doubt but our options are scarce. We win or we die…


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you so much for the new reviews, I have missed being able to post. **

**I want to get all that I have up as soon as I can.**

**With that said, here is chapter 14. **

**Also, this chapter contains content from the DH. I used the J.K's original plot, just for this piece. **

The two of us had shut ourselves up in my room for the remainder of the day, only making appearances during lunch and dinner. We had formed a decent plan. Together, we would apparate to the edges of Hogsmeade and go from there. We were taking a risk, a very large risk but what choice did we have? Time was running out.

Every so often one of us would poke our heads out into the hallway, listening for any sign of consciousness within the cottage. It was nearing one A.M before the reassuring snores of the sleeping confirmed it was time to leave.

Harry motions for me for to follow him. We venture through the dark hall, wincing whenever the floorboards creak. We decide it best to leave a note; nothing too specific; only that we had gone and that Ginny would inform them on where to meet us and at what time if anything went wrong. Harry had taken the liberty to filling Ginny in on our plan, once again, leaving out specific details.

Her told her where we were going and that if anything went wrongly, we would let her know. The galleon would warm and that would be her queue to gather up the others. He explained how important it was that she kept the coin on her at all times.

I'd imagined that they had had a moment of intimacy; for, it had been over an hour before he returned to me, his hair more disheveled than ever. What was strange about his appearance were his red eyes and wet cheeks. I said nothing about it, however.

We walk out into the early morning air; it is cool and clean and oddly enough, I feel invigorated, perhaps even excited.

"Ready?" Harry says to me, taking hold of my hand. I give it a slight squeeze.

"Ready…"

And with a loud _pop!_ We are gone.

As we compress together and swirl into nothingness, I feel that neither of us expects to ever see the cottage again.

We land a little farther off course than expected. There would be a walk to the small village but it is dark and the grass and rock is tall and black.

"For old time sake?" he asks, pulling his invisibility cloak out from the depths of his pocket. He pulls me in, throwing the cloak over us. I mutter a spell to muffle our footsteps. In doing so, we should be able to make it to the gates of Hogwarts with ease.

Harry takes the lead and together we trudge through the mud and grass. This makes me nervous; sure we are completely hidden and soundless but the grass would reveal us almost as if we were walking in daylight.

"Harry, we have to get out of this field!"I whisper.

"I know…but apparating any closer is too dangerous."

I stop, pulling the cloak away.

"Hermione, what are you doing!" Harry exclaims. "This place must be littered with Death Eaters; or at least Dementors…"

I keep my eyes to the sky, it is dark and clear but off in the distance a small fraction of it lightens. The sun is rising; this is both good and bad.

"Harry, there aren't any of them around, let's just run." I say eagerly. It is almost as if we had switch personalities; usually it would be me holding tight to the cloak.

The entryway into Hogsmeade is visible from where we stand. We could make it there is about ten minutes, double that if we walk.

I watch for any sign of life aside ours. There are birds chirping somewhere off to the west but other than that, it seems that we are completely alone.

"C'mon." I whisper, handing him the cloak, he takes it and shoves it back into his pocket. We take off, shielding our faces from the grass that threatens to slice our faces. I can see Hogsmeade approaching, it bubbles hope deep in my stomach.

With every step I feel closer to our goal but there is also a deep nagging sensation in the back of my mind; it tells me we are closer to the enemy.

I keep as close to Harry's heel as possible, he leads the way.

The field is bigger than I thought and as we sprint I can my feel myself losing momentum.

"C'mon, just a bit further!" he yells, charging through the grass; the end is near but not near enough.

My side is in stitches; the pain courses through my lungs but I push forward, the finish line is too close to quite now.

With each step I lose my footing; holes and hidden logs lie within the flattened grass, it is too dark to avoid them. I had managed to stay level until this point. I see Harry make a small leap but it happens too fast. I am face first on the ground before I know what has happened; accidently taking Harry down with me.

We hit the ground hard, his shoes smashing into my nose. This goes unnoticed at first.

"Ahhgg!" Harry yells, pushing himself to his knees and dusting off his jacket. He turns to me; his hands have been rubbed raw from the impact but nothing worse.

"Oh, Harry." I exclaim, crawling to him.

"Hermione, you're bleeding!"

Instantly, my hand goes to my nose. I feel a warm, sticky substance run down my chin and drip onto my sweater. My eyes start to water; I think it is broken.

"Hold on." Harry says, reaching into his pocket. He takes out his wand and holds it steadily up to my face. I swat at him, retrieving my own.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I can do it…" I say, awkwardly pointing my wand to my nose.

"Will you stop?" he says, pushing my hand away, "You may be the best at spells but I think you should leave this one to me. You're shaking too much' you'll blow your face off." He's probably right, so I sit back, eyes closed and wait for the painful _click_ of my nose resetting.

"Okay…hold still….Episkey!" he says in a swift motion. Angrily, my hands fly to my face, eyes streaming. I would have rather had the broken nose.

"Yeah, it hurts; Luna used it on me last year…" he says, placing his wand back in his jacket pocket.

Blood still runs from my nose but at least it is fixed.

"Look." Harry says, pointing. Only a few more yards from where we stand I can see a lit window from the Hogs Head. Strange that someone is awake at this hour.

We decide to walk the rest of the way. He takes out his cloak and throws it over us. From there, we take slow, quite steps.

Exiting the field gives me a rush of relief. That was too much; we could have been seen so easily.

We enter Hogsmeade, keeping close to the shadows. As we walk down High Street, I can hear the footsteps of a small crowd. By this point we have made decent progress through the sleeping village.

Harry quickly shuffles along the walls of the shops. I hold my breath, the crowd draws nearer.

My eyes are bulging, trying to adjust within the dim morning light, through the layers of cloak. I hold tight to Harry, he too isn't breathing.

Their footsteps are relaxed and they talk as if they are amongst friends.

There they are, a mere fifteen feet before us; it is easy to make out their form. No one else dresses like they do; Death Eaters…

"That bitch had it comin'" one of them says, the rest nod, giving a slight chuckle.

"I'm surprised he didn't kill her right then! I would have." Another adds angrily. Instantly, my mind is racing. Who are they talking about? I have to know more. She, who is _she_? Surely not you…but who else? There aren't any other female Death Eaters; not that I know of anyway. But couldn't they just be talking about some other random woman? That is possible…but I have to know for sure!

I grab the crook of Harry's arm, leading him toward the moving group, back up High Street. He remains quite but struggles against my grip; I pull him forward, trying my best to keep silent.

"All I know, is if I were him, I'd wanna know more 'bout where she'd run off too." One of them questions, "He always did give her more leeway; never botherin to check if she is as faithful as she says she is…I just don't get it."

"Yeah! All she leaves with is a few broken bones. Pfft! That's nothin." Says the one in the middle of the mob. He's the only one with his hood down. He is darker and his long black hair is pulled into a low ponytail.

"You heard Lucius, he said she had left with Potter and his mudblood friends! Said she disapparated with them and some elf. Then, she disappears for over a fortnight. Ridiculous if you ask me, how she isn't dead and all…" he finishes with frustration.

I move us closer, walking as quietly as I can over the raised platforms of the shops. This is too much, I know now who they are talking about and the knowledge is making me ill with anticipation.

"Whatever, she'll get it sooner or later; you can't fool the Dark Lord. Everyone knows she's been looking for a way out for years, after her husband died…after she became You-Know-who's personal whore…" the leader says heatedly. I pull a shaking hand to my mouth; unable to handle all of this information.

Just then, the door to the Hogs Head swings open. We freeze on the spot and watch as the group of Death Eaters turn toward the sound. There is a man standing in the doorway, he is old and looks oddly familiar.

"Oi! What do you think you're doin?" the one with the long hair says, walking nearer to the man. He looks up and at his feet I can see a small cat scurry through the open door and into the dark.

I take the chance to bring us in closer, in hopes of hearing more of their rant. Harry kicks at my shins, the pain makes my eyes water. I turn toward him, my eyes squinted with anger. He motions with his head, wanting to turn back, to get to Hogwarts before it's too late. I ignore him.

"I'm letting my cat out, what's it look like?" the old man spits, clearly unafraid.

"It's after curfew, ya know! No one is allowed out at this time." The leader says, stepping forward.

The old man continues to defend himself; I watch their argument nervously, waiting for him to hit the ground. Surely he'll be killed.

"Next time, old man, we won't be so lenient." The Death Eater exclaims, pointing an angry finger at the older man's chest.

The Barman merely huffs and watches as the group turns, heading back up the street.

For some reason, he keeps the door open longer than usual. His eyes are on us but I know he can't see us…

"Well, you gonna come in, or what?" he whispers. I turn to Harry, feeling nervous. I can tell he too is apprehensive.

"C'mon! It'll look suspicious, me just standin here." he says, hurriedly. Harry shrugs, pushing me forward. We sneak through the space that the man has left for us and enter the bar of the Hog's Head.

There are candles mounted on the walls, casting an eerie glow on them and the dusty floorboards.

"Haven't had much time to clean, you understand." The man grunts, closing the door behind him.

"You can take that cloak off. You're safe now."

I look to Harry again; fear has left his eyes and replaced them with curiosity; and we all know, once Harry grows curious, there is no stopping him.

Quickly, he tears off the cloak, revealing us to the Barman.

"Who are you?" he asks, stepping forward. The old man waves us on and together, we follow him behind the bar and through a door. There is a staircase leading up to his flat. The boards moan with each step; I'm sure I'll fall through at any moment.

I don't like this, not one bit. Last time something like this happened, we were almost eaten by a gigantic snake. I want to turn back but I know Harry is too drawn. Not until we are faced with death, will we leave.

The Barmen leads us into his living room. It is cluttered but clean and there is a small fire burning in the fireplace.

"Sit." He says, motioning to the two empty chairs across from him.

Instantly, Harry obliges; I do too but not just so.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you in here." he says, stroking his long silver beard.

"There is a lot to it. I am too tired to explain it all in one night. I'm sure that is the case for the two of you as well." He continues, leaning back.

"I'd offer you tea…but once again, that can wait till the morning. There are two spare bedrooms down the hall to your left." He explains, nodding toward the dark hallway. "Hermione, you can take the one at the end on the right. Harry, the second door on the left." He adds, standing, we follow suit.

"But, sir-" Harry tries. The Barman holds up a stiff hand, "Tomorrow, Harry. Please, get some sleep. Breakfast is at seven." He adds cheerfully.

What an odd man…

I look to Harry after the Barman leaves. There is a door right behind us; I'm guessing it leads to his own bedroom.

"What do we do?" I ask honestly. Harry looks around before answering me.

"He seems harmless and he obviously has something important to say." he says hopefully.

"Maybe…" I doubt it.

"I guess we'll just have to wait until tomorrow…Good night, Hermione." He says, walking passed me and into the spare bedroom that was assigned to him.

I stand alone in the living room, unsure how I feel about this old man but after a few moments, I can't ignore myself any longer.

I am tired…too tired, so I drag my feet down the dark hallway and shoulder the rickety door to my bedroom.

It is dark; darker than dark and the air is thick and muggy, as if the room hasn't been used in years.

Blindly, I make my way over to the bed. I remove my muddy shoes and bloodstained sweater before climbing in. the sheets are scratchy and smell of mothballs…but I soon forget, losing myself to sleep.

**oOo**

I had slept past seven, past eight…I didn't wake until a quarter to ten. It was Harry's voice that woke me.

I wish I could just stay here; I'm warm here…the arms that are wrapped around me make me feel safe and wanted.

Wait.

Arms? Arms around me?

I don't check to see who it was sleeping next to me. Instead, I tear out of bed and run to the door, padding on sleepy feet down the hallway and to Harry who sits next to the Barman at a small coffee table.

"Well, good morning!" Says the Barman, leaning over the table to pour an extra cup of tea, "Would you like to join us?" he asks, offering me a seat. I smile weakly and take the chair next to Harry. I turn to him.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I ask in frustration. He opens his mouth to answer but closes it soon after.

"I-I don't know. I guess I just didn't think to…" he says with a raised eyebrow.

"Never mind…Harry, there is someone in my bed!" I try to say quietly. He looks at with me a strange expression.

"What? What do you mean-"

"Okay!" the Barman says with a clap of his hands. He's gained our attention, taking us away from our private conversation.

"Now that Hermione has joined us, I feel it is necessary to answer some of the questions I'm sure you both have. But first, Harry, would you take out that shard of mirror from inside your sock?"

Harry looks to me again, we are both very confused but he follows the direction he was given, nonetheless.

From his sock, he pulls out a fairly large piece of glass and hands it to the old man.

"Do you know what this is, Harry?" he asks gently. Harry nods,

"It's part of a Two- Way mirror…the rest of it broke in my trunk, that was all I had left…"

The old man nods, pulling out of his robe, another mirror.

Harry jumps to his feet.

"It's you! You're the one I've been seeing?"

The Barman nods, "I'm Aberforth…" he says calmly.

"Dumbledore's brother…" Harry says, mostly to himself, "But-" he tries but Aberforth cuts him off.

"This bit of information is just to ease your mind, Harry. There are more pressing matters at hand..." he says, turning to me.

"Hermione, my guess is that you did not notice the other guests in my home. I didn't expect you to. Ron!" he yells toward the hall.

My body tenses, my blood turns to ice; both Harry and I watch the hallway in disbelief.

"Ron…?" I say weakly as he enters the room. His cheeks are flush and his hands are deep in his pockets.

"Hi…" he says quietly. So, this is where he's gone to…but why?

Harry stands to meet him, "Ron, why are you here?" he asks confusedly. Ron steps forward with a shrug.

"Aberforth has been helping us all along, I guess. I didn't know until the morning I left. Mum and Dad explained it all." He admits, taking a seat next to Dumbledore's brother.

Aberforth speaks again, "This is true. It's been a bit tense here for the last few days but…after many long hours; I think It's all been cleared up." He says, I am lost, I do not understand.

"What do you mean? Ron, what's he talking about?" I ask eagerly.

Ron takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly before answering.

"It's about everything, Hermione. The war, You-Know-Who…the horcrux's…Bellatrix…." He adds. I perk but I can feel my stomach tighten. I try not to show my interest. Ron continues.

"After what happened, between you and I and all…I needed to get away; to figure out my own stuff. So, Mum sent me here. A day later, Bellatrix showed up. It wasn't until that night, that the three of us talked…for hours; seemed more like days. Point is, I'm not mad anymore." He looks up to me, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I was a huge git…"

My mouth falls open; I can't believe what I'm hearing. Ron is sorry? He talked to you? You're here?

"Now that that is out of the way…Ron, would you explain what we've been doing for the last day or so?" Aberforth continues. I am still in shock, unable to process anything.

"Well…" he says looking to both Harry and I. This is when I noticed the burns, bruises and gashes that spot his skin.

"Aberforth, he has a way into the school from here. I've been working with the DA. Ya." He nods to Harry, "The DA is still going on. I couldn't believe it either but together we've managed to find the two horcrux's that were hidden inside Hogwarts…it was difficult, getting by all the Death Eaters and what not but with all of us working together, we managed. They're right over there" Ron finishes, pointing to a chest that sits against the wall. I cannot speak, I am too overwhelmed.

"That means…there's only two left?" Harry exclaims, dashing toward the chest. He turns to Ron, "Hermione's still got the sword too…"

"That's been the only thing keeping us from destroying them!" Ron says, walking to meet Harry.

"Wait…" Harry stops, turning on his knees back toward Aberforth, "How did you know we would be here? At Hogsmeade, I mean."

Aberforth flashes him a small smile.

"I've been watching you, Harry. Through the mirror of course. But mostly, it has been with Bellatrix's help that you are here."

I speak at once, "Where is she?"

Aberforth turns to me, gesturing with his hand to the hallway.

"Why, in your room." He says as if this is completely obvious.

This is when it hits me; you were the one I felt lying next to me…

I look to him, then to Harry, whose eyes are on me, then to Ron who is also watching in interest. Instantly, I jump up and dash down the hall. I push through the door and let it slowly swing closed behind me.

There you are. I'm frozen in place.

You are sleeping, your hair fanned out across your face. I can see large bruises on your pale skin; deep cuts accompany them.

I step forward, my hands cupped over my mouth.

"Bella?" I whisper as you stir. I can see one black eye meet mine; slowly, your face breaks into a small smile.

"Hello, Love…." You say weakly, lifting up your arm. I continue toward you and stop at the edge of the bed.

You gesture for me to come closer. I obey, sitting down and crawling in next to you. I refrain from touching you though; I'm afraid of hurting you, you seem so fragile. But you assure me that I won't by wrapping a gentle arm around my waist and pulling me in closer.

Your scent, the one I love so much overwhelms my senses; I can't help the tears that fall from my eyes.

"Come, now." You say into my ear, "None of that…"

I feel your lips lightly press against my cheek.

"Stay with me…" you say, already losing the battle to unconsciousness. I nod, "Okay…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Whoop whoop!**

Happiness has been a rare thing in my life. I was happy when I was young, way before Hogwarts but after then, it seems there have only been a few brief moments in which happiness for me was bright and true.

I was beyond ecstatic when I had received my letter of acceptance. From a very early age, I knew I was different; I felt extreme relief when I found I was right about my assumptions.

I remember a feeling of warmth when I had found a friend in both Harry and Ron; we stuck together, never leaving one another's side. I came in touch with happiness after being accepted into the Wizarding World; after living with Ron's family over the summer holidays. It was nice, those memories but alongside them, came the worst of events. Death, loss, chaos…

How could I truly be happy when my life consisted of those three elements on almost a daily basis? It was tiring, Bella, dealing with it all; having to be strong and brave and smart all the time. We were only children, for Merlin's sake! And now that we've grown, the pressure and risk has grown as well.

I was prepared to live through the Dark Times, I was prepared to fight for my life and for others; I was prepared to lose them all. What I wasn't prepared for, however, was you.

I can honestly say, in the brief time we knew each other, I'd never felt more safe, more calm, more collected…you transformed me in the best of ways. I grew into a real woman, leaving my youth in the dust.

From where I watch you now, as you hide in the depths of the forest; mourning something that should have been celebrated, I wonder what your true moments of happiness were.

You've been a mess for weeks; you've starved yourself, tortured yourself, refused to let yourself rest. I watch in disgust, you are breaking; letting this get the best of you. I want to shake you, to scream at you; I want to assure you that I am alright. I have never been more happy. This had to happen, Bella. Don't you see? I lived for you and you for me. You were all I needed to be better, to be braver and stronger to be safer and smarter. Now that I have achieved those things, there is nothing left to feel sad about.

I wish I could tell you that.

**oOo**

I wake sometime in the evening. I'm glad that we were left alone. I still feel your arm lying gently on my hip. I can't help but smile into my pillow.

I have so many questions, I wonder if it would be appropriate to dive right into them. If it would upset you in any way.

I force myself to remain patient; I know when you are ready, you will finally reveal the truth to me.

Slowly, I turn myself toward you and watch as you sleep. You seem to be at peace; butterflies swim through me and with a shaking hand I gently wipe away a lock of hair that hangs over your face.

I was confident that you were sleeping but just as my fingers brush against your cheek; my wrist catches in your hand. I can't help but jump. I try to pull back but you are much stronger than you seem.

"I'm sorry…" I mutter nervously. You release me; I can see red rings forming where your fingers were.

"No, don't be…it's only a reaction. I apologize." You tell me as you try to sit up.

"Don't, you'll hurt yourself." I say, trying to keep you in place.

"Oh, Love. I've been through much worse. My bones are already completely healed. There are only bruises now." You say, pushing yourself up. You lean against the headboard; I follow suit.

"Can I get you anything?" I ask, keeping a small space between us. I watch as you pull your hair out of your face and lean in. I back away slightly, unsure of what you are trying to do.

"Where you goin?" you tease, snaking a hand around my neck.

"Oh, I just thought-"

"Don't."

I am a puddle, a puddle in your hands. My skin is on fire, my blood as cool as ice and as I feel your lips on mine, I try to remain clear headed. It has been a stressful few days; they've felt more like weeks actually.

But as our tongues dance as one, all my worries leave me. The only thing that matters is the two of us. You pull away, I am breathless.

"I've missed you." You whisper sweetly. I want to reply, like every time but find it is exceptionally difficult.

I want more and as I lean in, there comes a hard knock on our door. My head snaps to the sound, instantly, I move from you.

"Who is it?" I ask at the door.

"Harry…Supper is ready." He tells me, I hear his footsteps fade back down the hall.

I turn toward you, "Are you hungry?" I ask, sitting myself back on the bed. You sit there for a moment, lost in thought.

"Actually, yes. I've been in this damned bed too long." You say, pushing yourself up.

"No, don't. I'll get it for you." I say, moving to leave. Once again, your grip is strong on my wrist.

"Please, Hermione. Let me do this; I am stronger than I may look. Trust me." You say, releasing me. My cheeks flush hot as I move out of your way.

I watch you struggle and wince in pain. I want so bad to help you but I know you won't let me.

Finally, you're at the beds edge. My muscles twitch but I keep my place.

You seem so much thinner than before; under your white gown, I can see your frail form. Your hip bones jut against the fabric of your nightwear. After a few painful minutes, you finally make it to your feet. You wobble, as you try to keep your footing, making a lame attempt to walk. This time, I do move. I am at your side before I know it. You wave me off but I do not listen.

"Will you knock it off?" I tell you firmly, wrapping my arm around your small waist. You huff in frustration but keep silent, allowing my help. I shoulder the door open and slowly we make our way down the hall. From there, I can see everyone seated around the small table. Both Ron and Harry look to me; Ron makes the first move, meeting me at the end of the hall.

"You need help?" he asks sweetly. I look to you, you to him and with a slight shake of your head, I answer for you.

"No thank you, Ron. I've got it."

He moves out of the way, Harry leaves the room and comes back with an extra chair; he places it at the far end of the table. I ease you into it; you take my hand and give it a slight squeeze.

"Thanks, Love."

I take the chair next to you. Aberforth fills our plates and proceeds to talk, wasting no time.

"As you all know, You-Know-who is in full power. He is armed and ready and I fear his next stop may be Hogwarts. We have to be prepared." He tells us, turning to you.

"Bellatrix, will you be ready by tomorrow night? I have already informed the rest. We take over then; if he takes any longer than a day, we bring him to us. It is time to end this." He says strongly. All eyes are on you; this is when a mask slips over your face.

You sit straight and hide any pain behind it.

"I'll be ready…" you say confidently.

Aberforth nods and moves to the next person.

"Ron, you have to be the first inside. You're the one who's been working with the DA. Can you do it?"

Ron's fists tighten, his jaw set.

"Yeah, when should I go?"

"How's after supper?" Aberforth asks but it isn't a question. Ron nods in agreement.

The only two left without a plan is Harry and I.

"Harry, I'll need you to destroy those horcrux's…go with Ron. The DA will help you."

"I'll need the sword. Hermione?" Harry says, turning to me.

"I've got it…" I tell him, "Uhh…Aberforth? I ask, his eyes move to mine. It is shocking, the similarities between him and Dumbledore…

"Where shall I go?"

He thinks a moment, surely he hadn't forgotten me?

"I have a very important job for you, Hermione." He says, leaning toward me, "I need you to take care of Ms. Lestrange, here. You are responsible for her health until this time tomorrow. I need her ready, Hermione. In one day we will all face our most feared. We will give up our lives and fight for the ones of others. Tomorrow, we stop this madness and Bellatrix is a very important part of the defeat." He says strongly.

"We better get a move on, then." Harry says, pushing his plate away. "Ron?"

Some things never change.

"Wuh? Almst dun." He says through a mouthful of food.

"Hermione, can I talk to you privately for a moment?" Harry asks, leaving Ron to finish his meal in peace.

"Of course, Harry. We can go to my room. Well-" I stop, turning to you, "Do you mind?"

You chuckle an airy laugh, "Course not, Dearie." I smile to you and lead Harry to the room at the back of the hall.

He closes the door behind himself. When he looks to me, what was once a calm and collected Harry, has transformed into something I am most unfamiliar with.

"Harry?" I ask concernedly. His eyes are dim and low on his face.

"I just- I had to say-" he tries but I stop him, I already know what it is he is trying to say and I won't let him.

"Don't. Stop…" I warn, stepping toward him, "We'll get through this. No one is going anywhere, I promise." I reassure him, only half believing myself.

He sighs heavily, letting his shoulders drop.

"I hope so…I'm sorry, Hermione. For a moment, I just- I got…never mind. Thanks." He says, closing the distance between us. We hold each other equally, enjoying the other's company and comfort. He releases me, keeping me at arm's length.

"Tomorrow night…" he says, dropping his hands to his sides. I nod,

"Tomorrow night."

**oOo**

-I held myself together as I watched them go and even long after that. Actually, I was never given a chance to break down. Everything happened too fast; they were gone and then I was and that was that.-

I'm not tired, I only woke a few hours ago but I can see the exhaust, thick on your face. We are alone in the small living room. You try to finish your food, taking slow, meaningful bites.

"Would you like to go lie down?" I ask, after you have pushed your plate away.

"I think I would, actually."

In just the hour or two that we've been sitting here, I can already feel the difference in your strength. You lift yourself with almost no trouble at all; we walk back to our room, you keep straight with ease.

As the door closes, I feel I can no longer remain patient.

"Bella?" you look to me as you sit on the edge of the bed; there is a moment's pause before you let out a deep sigh.

"Come here." you tell me, patting the mattress. I take my seat, keeping my eyes firmly on you.

I watch as you twiddle with your fingers, unsure of how to start. I don't pressure you, or ask questions; I merely wait for you to collect your thoughts.

"There was a time," you start, turning to me, "where my actions mirrored my feelings. I was a terrible person and have done unforgivable things. At the time, I wasn't sorry." You take a breath, thinking of your next set of words.

"I went mad for awhile. Especially, during my time in Azkaban…but through it all, I learned something new about myself. I learned that I was severely unhappy and that my life choices would only lead me back to that hell hole. I wanted out…out of it all. But, I knew that wasn't an option. I was stuck in a life of terror, death and torture and although my feelings changed, I had to assume my former status. I had to keep playing the part; no one ever wants to die." You tell me quietly.

I keep still and silent, eager for more.

I watch as you slip the hem of your gown up your thighs; my eyes burn into your skin.

Something I had never noticed or felt at all, were the scars that litter your flesh. There are a variety of marks; some come in the form of bites, other look as though they were made with blades of various widths.

"What…where did those come from?" I ask, slightly appalled. You smile, running a light finger over the raised edges of your scars.

"From him…" you say, remembering. I am unsure if they are happy memories, I feel there is a mix of emotions that tie you to You-Know-Who.

"From the very beginning, I was his. He took out his anger, his passion, all of it…on me. What choice did I have? I couldn't tell him no. for awhile, I didn't even want to. He made me feel special, better than all the rest. He took notice in me, gave me privileges none other had. It was great, it really was." You say, keeping your eyes from mine.

My stomach churns as I try desperately to keep onto my dinner. How could you be saying this?

"But then, something in me changed…." You continue, "I realized what my life would be if I continued on with him. I was so empty…so alone…it had quickly turned into a battle of survival." You tell me as you continue to feel the scars on your legs.

I turn away, keeping my eyes far from you. I had a feeling I would not like listening to your story; I knew there was a great chance it would upset me, just not this much.

"Why did you ask for help?" I mutter weakly; I can feel the heat of your body warm my skin as you scoot closer. Your hand lightly falls on my leg.

"Look at me, Love." You whisper. I really don't want to but I do as you say, swallowing my pride.

Your eyes are firm, yet gentle; this is when I realize just how lost I am in you.

"I was lying before, you know…"

I don't understand, lying about what?

"When I said it was only help I needed…" still, I wish you would clarify.

"Aberforth, I found him, discovered him more like it. He was exactly what I needed. Close enough to the source but still safely distant from it…and so together, we devised a plan. It was tricky and risky but I knew it would work better than any." You admit, trying to keep eye contact with me, " I knew sooner or later the three of you would be captured; I prayed to Merlin, anyway." You take in a shaky breath and continue on, "Let's just say, I knew a fair amount about you before we met. From the start, you were my target; Aberforth had apparently learnt from his brother about the three of you. Slowly and over a period of time. It just so happens that the information he had obtained could be used to my advantage. So, I took it." You say; I feel there is a complete lack of secrecy in this conversation. I am learning things I wish I hadn't.

I scoot from you, keeping my folded arms resting against my knees.

"Hermione…" you mutter, "Please, I am only bein honest, am I not?"

I sit there quietly a moment, contemplating the things you have told me. Slowly, I shake my head.

"It was wrong of you to do that. To snoop around, to use me…how can I believe anything between us has been real; if you've only just told me, I was your target the whole time? Is this what this is, a game? A way out? An excuse to start over?"

I'm angry and I'm not completely sure why. You're hurting me with the truth; I almost wish I hadn't brought it up.

"No." you say almost angrily; my skin prickles. In just the one syllable, I can hear the old you try to resurface. It is because I'm giving you no room to explain, I'm throwing accusations and believing them straight away. I cannot be blamed, anger makes people irrational.

"Listen to me." You say strongly, taking hold of my shoulder. You manipulate me in such a way that I have turned to face you. I am almost under you as you speak; you make sure I hear every word.

"In the beginning…that is how it was. My plan was to use you and after then, I would run and lead my own life; without any guilt or pain or worry. I would use you and your lot to literally erase away the Death Eater once known as Bellatrix Lestrange." You push harder; I fall back, bracing myself with my elbows. "But then, you followed through and brought me back to your friends and your family…something I never expected. You defended me, put me above all else. You put your relationships and friendships on the line for a person you didn't know. For someone you _only _knew as a murderer…you knew the things I'd done and yet, you still decided to help me." You say in one breath. I am speechless; I am frozen and completely overwhelmed.

"That is why things are different, Love." You continue, leaning in closer, "In the end, it was you that got the best of me and I don't even feel bad about it. You've shown me more kindness than anyone I've ever known…"

You breath is hot on my lips….my brain has gone fuzzy and my mind, clouded.

"It's funny how these things happen…" you say, closing the distance between us.

**oOo**

-I had felt the touch of a woman for the first time that night. At first, I was hesitant; I felt you were still too weak, too injured but you pressed, so I complied.

You always got your way, especially with me.

I wish I could explain to you how amazing that night was, Bella but it seems like so long ago. I am beginning to forget the sensation of your lips on mine…the way your hair would tickle my chin…your laugh…the way you smell…

It's becoming blurred, hazy, something unreal, almost.

It is strange though, how it doesn't make me sad. In fact, I haven't been sad for awhile. I wish I could tell you how happy I am now. How I am at peace with myself and how it all played out…

I wish you wouldn't cry anymore. There is no pain here, now worry. However, as I watch you, I can feel guilt bubble up inside me.

You have your hair in your face as you walk into an Inn. You've been bouncing from place to place for weeks, trying to find some haven that will keep you safe, that will make it all better.

You'll run forever it seems but we both know where it is you have to be, you need to be. The cottage, Bella. Where our friends and family wait and worry for you. They do understand and they'll give you as long as it takes but you're beginning to forget where it all started. The lines and memories are beginning to blur for you as well.

However, the few things I do remember about that night are your hands and how they felt on me. I remember what we sounded like and how it felt to have our legs intertwined; enjoying the rhythmic breathing that sang to our afterglow.

I remember being half asleep and hearing you slur sweet nothings into my ear. That was it for me, Bella; I was completely content in that moment. After that point, there was no going back.

Before I fell asleep that night, I watched you. Something strange came over me as I held your hand in mine. The feeling was one of great loss, although I couldn't explain it at the time. It didn't upset me, I was however, deeply disturbed. I knew my feeling was valid in some way but for the life of me, I couldn't figure it out. It kept me up till the early morning; the small village outside our window was beginning to stir before I finally allowed myself some sleep.-

As soon as I drift off, I feel your hands on me, lightly nudging me awake. I look up to find you fully dressed and looking well. You're clean and strong, however, your cuts and bruises still paint your pale skin. I sit up, "What time is it?" I ask, pulling the blankets off me.

"Time to get started." You say, helping me up. "We don't have much time. Busy day today, Dearie." You tell me, picking up my littered clothes and tossing them my way.

I dress quickly, following you out the door. Together, we meet Aberforth in his living room. He sits patiently, holding the Two-Way mirror in his hands.

"Any news?" you ask, walking to the empty chair seated beside him. He looks to you, his face is grave.

"Yes." He says, placing the mirror atop the coffee table. I stand behind you, my fingers digging into the material of the chair.

"Everything is going according to plan. However, I won't lie and say it doesn't make me nervous." He finishes, folding in his hands.

"Well, what is the plan?" I ask eagerly, "You never explained it in detail." I add.

He looks to me with heavy brows, "Well, Hermione." He says, motioning with his hand to another empty chair. I take it and wait for him to continue.

"Our plan was to have the goblet and the diadem destroyed by this time today. I am happy to say, that with the help of the DA, this has been accomplished. This leaves only two horcrux's. Both of which have to be destroyed at a most precise moment. It is the waiting that makes me anxious. We still have a full day ahead and nothing can be achieved until this evening, unfortunately." He tells me.

I do not fully understand, "What are the other two horcrux's? You obviously know, why can't we just destroy them now? It seems ridiculous not to." I say bitterly.

"It isn't so easy. And yes, both Bellatrix and I know what the last two are. If the You-Know-Who shows like we expect, both of which will be taken care of. There is nothing we can do but wait, I am afraid." He finishes, leaning over the table. I watch him stare at himself in the mirror, he is eager to see Harry. To be told of anything new that might be happening from within the castle.

"Bellatrix." He says abruptly, looking from the mirror. "The others, they'll be here shortly. I expect within the next few hours. When that happens, I'll need you to leave, to find Harry. From then, the rest should unfold." He tells you, you nod. I can sense your fear, you hide it well.

"Hermione. When she leaves and finds Harry, your galleon, it'll warm. When it does, it will be your turn to leave." He says, spilling the rest of the plan.

I grow nervous as well and wonder just how much of Harry and I's original plan was discovered and how.

"But where should I go from there?" I ask eagerly.

"When that happens, it'll be most clear of what to do next. Here…" he says, reaching over and placing in my hand a wadded up piece of parchment. I look up from the wad and over to you, then back to Aberforth.

"What is it?"

"Well, open it." He says tersely.

I unfold the ball of paper and smooth it out as much as possible. It is your letter, the one you wrote me on the morning you left.

"H-how did you get this?" I ask confusedly.

"Nevermind that." Aberforth replies, "keep it with you. I have faith that when the time comes, you will be able to move into the next part of the plan." He tells me, I fold the note and place it safely in my pocket.

We watch as Aberforth leans back against the sofa, folding his arms tightly across his chest. He bounces a restless leg in eager anticipation.

We sit together in the cramped living room, waiting as patiently as possible for our time to come. The minutes until the inevitable battle pass in seconds, however, the hours to get there feel as long as years. I try to think of nothing in that time; I try to rid myself of that dawning feeling and build up my courage. After all, tonight is the night of our death or our continuing lives.

Tonight, some of us will leave this world forever, I only hope it is for the greater good.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry for the longest pause in the world…**

**Hope you'll forgive me. **

**WARNING: Sappiness ahead! **

-I held my eyes closed, waiting for the moment to happen. It was inevitable; there was no way around it. I had to be brave. For, if I wasn't, I knew you would have died as well.

His words echoed around the Great Hall but they were directed at you; his anger erupted and for the first time, he took it out on someone else. I was happy to be that person, if it meant keeping you from him.

I did what I did for you, Bella. I would have changed nothing; you're much stronger than I am; if living meant a life without you…

Just the thought, it makes me sick. There was no other way. I can't say it enough.

Keeping my eyes closed gave me the strength to let it all go. If I had seen your face in those last moments…I would have fought against him. That would have destroyed everything.

The others had arrived just as expected. We needn't explain the plan again; for everyone had already been filled in. we all knew our parts, our places and when to act on them. We left immediately, climbing in through the portrait that concealed a tunnel into the castle. It was magnificent, this tunnel. It led straight to our starting point; the Room of Requirement.

I couldn't believe what I saw when I fell through the other end; in a wide half circle around the exit of the tunnel were all of our old school mates. I knew the DA was still in power but to see them all, bloody and bruised and still fighting. It gave me hope; something I felt that I was losing for a long time.-

**oOo**

I can feel you behind me, keeping your distance from the rest. I am sure both Harry and Ron had explained that you would be participating in the defeat of Voldemort but their eyes, Bella. They were vicious, like hungry rabid dogs. They said nothing however; I don't blame them, I know your being here makes them uneasy. They have a valid reason to feel the way they do.

Harry steps to me. He has obtained almost as many cuts and bruises as the others. His glasses have shattered and purple circles have formed under his eyes.

"Hello, Hermione." He says with a smile. He is in high spirits; for some reason, this upsets me. He is lying to himself but I say nothing and mirror the smile.

"Oh, Harry," I say, taking my wand from my pocket, "Oculus Reparo…"

Instantly, his glasses fuse together. I can see his eyes widen, as if he is seeing clearly for the first time in over a day.

"Thank you…" he mutters, turning to the half circle of beaten DA members.

"There are only two Horcruxes left." Harry says loudly, demanding the eyes of the room.

I remember the note in my pocket; I reach for it and slowly unfold it.

I try not to read too much. It brings me back to those few short days I had to get through without you. Those days were filled with nauseating worry and fear… I focus on your clues.

"_**Two lie within the castle- His most prized, around his neck- The unnoticed, on the face of your hero."**_

I reread the line, trying my hardest to unhinge its meaning. We've already found and destroyed the two in the castle…his most prized, around his neck…?

I sit in thought while the rest of the room begins on the formation of a plan. The group has moved in; they're all speaking rapidly but I can make out none of their words.

'Around his neck…'

It is like a slap in the face. My eyes widen and I can feel hope; it is back again and I feel it is stronger.

I rush to Harry, taking his shoulder and turning him toward me.

"Hermione?-" he says, I cut him off.

"Harry, don't you see?" I say, thrusting the note toward him. His brow knits together but he takes the note nonetheless. I watch as he reads it, hoping he understands. He doesn't.

"I-I know, Hermione. We still have two left, that's what we're-" he tries again, pointing with his thumb to the group that stands behind him; they watch us with eager eyes.

"No, look." I say, pointing, "His most prized, around his neck! It's the snake, Harry!" I exclaim, watching as his mind begins to clear. He tears the letter from my hands, eyes scanning across the parchment; it makes perfect sense!

"You're right…" he whispers…dropping the note. I watch as it flutters to the floor, silently hitting the brick beneath our feet.

He is silent and still. The room is breathless; we wait for a reaction, an explanation, anything.

"Harry?" I say, stepping closer. I can see something leave his eyes; it sends a shiver down my spine. That hope I felt a moment ago? It is gone now and in its spot sits something heavy and never ending.

"Harry, what is it?" I ask again. I'm growing worried and I can hear the rest of the room begin to whisper.

You are still behind me; I can feel your hand rest gently on my hip. To few, this goes unnoticed. It is normal to them now but to the others…

Ron steps to us, taking Harry's shoulder in his hand, "You alright, Mate?" he asks. Harry's eyes swivel, landing on his friend. He seems startled, as if he has forgotten where he is. Quickly, he runs a shaking hand through his hair and forces out a jagged breath; pinning a weak laugh along with it.

"I'm fine. Just got caught up, I guess…" he lies, turning his back on us and facing the crowd.

I try to say something but the moment my mouth opens, I feel your own on my ear. Your breath is warm and so are your hands; which sit lightly upon my shoulders. My stomach is on fire, I try to remain complacent.

"Don't worry, Love…he's only just figured out what the last Horcrux is…" you tell me. I try to keep focused but the smell of your hair; it's maddening.

"W-what?" I say, turning my head slightly to you. I can feel your grip tighten; I feel this is a warning. You don't want to attract attention.

"It had to happen this way, I am afraid…" you tell me, removing yourself from my personal bubble.

I can hear Harry's voice, it is loud but it carries with it a fake sense of confidence.

"You all know what to do…" he tells them, turning back to the two of us, "Bellatrix… I'm tired of waiting. Call him…" Harry demands.

I look to you; your own lie on Harry. You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving him a stiff nod.

I can feel your fingers curl around my wrist; you pull me away from the crowd, away from my friends. We're leaving…

"Where are we going?" I ask nervously. I had been given specific instructions; you taking me away from them, it could ruin everything.

You don't answer. I look back to Harry, to Ron, to the remaining DA members. They watch me leave but none seem concerned; they are all too preoccupied with their own lives and what will come of them after this night is over.

You keep a hurried pace; the hallways are empty and almost completely dark. I can hear the clicking of your heels; the sound echoes off the cold stone of the castle as we make our way further into its center.

"Bellatrix!" I say finally, pulling back my arm. We've come to a series of staircases; I know which one we will take and it will lead us to the Great Hall, somewhere I really don't want to be at the moment.

With every breath, I can feel the hope I had a moment ago, fade. The Dementors that circle around the castle's boundaries are drawing closer. They can feel us, as we can them. Our anxiety, our persistence and furthermore, our determination to see this all through, is something they haven't tasted in many months. We are easy to find with so many around. You can't blame me for wanting to stay clear of the main entryway into the castle. It is suicide, Bella….

You turn, facing me. Subconsciously, I take a step back. Your eyes, in them something has changed. You feel like your old self again. I can't help the goose bumps that rise on my skin or the hair that stands on end. I take another step back meeting the cold stone wall. A candle flickers on its mount above me. This is the only source of light; its glare casts eerie shadows across your pale skin.

You take a step toward me; we are now almost chest to chest. My eyes grow wide as your raise you wand arm. I draw a blank, completely thrown off by your personality change.

"Bella?" I whisper, closing my eyes tight. I wait impatiently for your spell to hit, unsure of what to expect.

Your hand is soft as it cups my cheek. You lean in and speak lightly into my ear.

"I'm sorry, Love…I never meant for any of this to happen…I never meant to fall in love with you…I never thought- I didn't think…" you stutter over your words, trying hard to form a proper sentence; one that matches your true feelings. I can't help but notice how you struggle to do so.

I open my eyes and find yours. In them swims a condensed form of fear I never thought you were capable of.

I swallow hard, willing my throat to clear but my brain, my body and its most basic functions have almost completely shut down. This was the first time you told me you loved me. The rest would come through in a series of broken sobs; all in the same night I'm afraid

. I'm glad you chose this moment to say it; when I heard the words, I knew I felt the same. Once again, you've given me the push I needed to pull through.

I bite my lip and choke out a thick sentence, "This isn't your fault…" I tell you, knowing full well that I am speaking a lie.

You place a finger to my lips; you don't want my sympathy. Not any more than I've already given you.

I watch as you turn from me and walk to one of the windows placed on the opposite wall.

I keep still, waiting for the moment to happen.

The window cries as you force it open; I can't help but feel it is only too easy to hear throughout the silence of the castle.

"Bella, please! Someone will hear you!" I whisper loudly. You turn to me, sadness smears across your face.

"I have to do this…" you say, I don't understand. I take a step nearer, hovering between the firelight of the candle and the shadows it casts on the stone.

I watch in a frozen trance as you lean over the sill and press the tip of your wand to your Dark Mark…

It is instantaneous; the chaos that breaks out. The Earth begins to shake and I'm afraid Hogwarts may come loose from its foundation. You are thrust from the window and into me; we both fall back and land heavily onto the ground. Unlike before, the halls are now filled with frightened students, they spill from every room and tear down the hallway; uncaring of me or the Death Eater that sits at their feet.

Hastily you lean down and capture my lips with yours; the contact is brief but in it, I can feel something real. Something I felt had been held back for so long.

"…The snake, Hermione. If you see it, don't hesitate…" you tell me. I have no time to respond; you are up and gone before I can even process what you have said. I run to the window you tear from and watch as an inky black stream of smoke jets across the clear night sky.

On the horizon I can see a crowd begin to form. Blood rushes from my face and into my feet. I see _him_ and all of his followers; which has grown to an astronomical size.

I want to sit and watch and wait for it all to end; I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to fight, or die, or bleed any longer…but I have no choice; I force myself away from the window and through the dissipating crowd of people.

I thought we'd get more warning. I had thought that there would be a fight, a chance to survive…the potential to win but I was wrong. There was no warning, we are too late.

I wonder where Harry is, where Ron and all the other are…if they are okay.

I take the stairs two at a time, stumbling as I reach the bottom. Students poor from the door, eager to leave Hogwarts and find safety. All the while, I battle through a rush of people that try to make their way back inside. They are being directed by teachers and students alike.

"Into the Great Hall! Go, go!" A seventh years demands, providing a sense of safety for the petrified students. I rush passed; I'm almost to the door. I can feel the cool night breeze brush against my flush cheeks and neck; it mocks me as I reach further. I am so close.

"Ms. Granger?" a familiar voice shrieks. I turn to find Professor McGonagall, holding open one of the mahogany doors that lead into the Great Hall. Her eyes are wide with terror.

"Come!" she waves to me; I hesitate. Outside, is where _he_ is; is where I need to be but something holds me back, like a great invisible rope pulling at me from the inside.

Hurriedly, I turn and rush toward my former teacher, "Professor?" I ask casually. Her eyes widen as she lifts a curious brow.

"What are you doing here? Where's Potter and Mr. Weasley? Are they safe?" she asks in hurry, glancing every now and then to the sea of students; both rushing through the Great Hall and out into the night.

"I- I don't exactly know, Professor." I tell her honestly; my stomach tightens, try to push the negative thoughts out of my mind. I keep focus on the Hope.

"Professor, we have to do something, before it's too late. We need to get everyone together, You-Know-who, he's-" I try to say but she's cut me off.

"Yes, Ms. Granger, I know. I've expected this for months now. Unfortunately, I cannot keep anyone here that doesn't want to be. We'll lose who we lose and work with what we've got left. I've sent the Knights off to protect the perimeters. The rest is up to us." She tells me firmly, I feel she is one of the few that hasn't given up.

I decided then that I have always truly respected Minerva. I look to her and nod, "I expect this will be over soon…" I say, walking passed her.

The room is filled with students and staff. I can feel their eyes burn into me as I walk toward the center. I look for Harry or anyone from the DA but all I can see are the faces of children who can't hide their fear. Most are crying, there is yelling and cursing but I carry on and focus hard.

As I scan the room, my eyes make a stop for the first time. Sitting at the head table is Snape; my mouth falls open, unable to conceal my surprise. Our eyes connect; my stomach tightens against his gaze. I watch as he moves from his seat, never once looking from me. He is at the podium and he speaks with confidence.

"Silence!" he yells, demanding the attention of the room. The air leaves my lungs as I wait for him to continue.

The only sounds left are the sniffles of uncontrolled tears and an occasional gasp for breath.

"It seems Hogwarts is under attack. My only assumption is that Mr. Potter is here, somewhere within the school. Anyone who knows anything on his whereabouts and fails to administer the information now will be…severely punished. My advice is to come forth while you still have the chance… " he says menacingly. His black eyes scan the small sea of people before him. He looks for the same thing I do.

I squint in thought. Something feels off. Not like it used to. I was never one to assume when it came to Snape. I knew he was different; there was always something strange about him. This is precisely why I figured he was never the culprit; however, as he stands before me, I can't help but wonder what he's up to.

No one answers to his call, the students of Hogwarts keep quiet and hope they'll still have time to make it out alive; because as we all stand here in a thick, nauseating silence, the walls of the school are starting to come down.

The floors shake once more and we are all forced to the ground as the windows that line the stone walls are blown out.

Hastily, I pull out my wand, trying to keep my face hidden from any stray glass.

From the corner of my eye, there are small flashes of silver, blue and yellow light. Some of the students have attempted to fight but they are quickly pushed back and silenced for good. The room fills with jets of bright green light as a mob of Death Eaters make their way through the unhinged mahogany doors.

There is screaming and it comes from all around; with it, accompanies a high shrill laugh I only know too well.

I try not to look for you; I fear even a glimpse might reveal too much.

My body tenses, I force myself to remain still. From beneath the crook of my elbow, I can see Snape move from the platform that the head table sits on.

I know in that instant, that his target is me. It doesn't take him long before the black leather of his boots meet the tip of my nose. Quickly, he leans down, grabbing a fistful of my jacket in his hand. I'm pulled to my feet, now only inches from his face.

"Ms. Granger." He whispers, " I doubt that you are in the dark on where Mr. Potter is…" he says curiously. My fists clench, my jaw sets. He already knows I'll say nothing. I will be of no help to him.

"Tell me, why is it that you are here? What business do you acquire _here_ and without the rest of the Trio, might I add?"

By this time, the small mob of Death Eaters has moved in and completely surrounded us; the rest of the students lie at their feet in small crouched forms.

"I really don't think that is any of your business."I whisper bravely.

I wonder what he expected me to say, because my response I can see, has left him more than livid.

He bears his teeth and snatches up a handful of my hair. I can't help but cry out; I keep my eyes closed against the pain and the eyes of the students that are forced to watch. It is them that I feel the most for. The innocent that never had a choice, never had a say in whether or not they wanted to fight and die.

"Wrong answer." He says aloud, louder than I would have expected. He's trying to impress the others, or trying to fill their heads with something false. He's lying but I'm not sure what about.

I try to push away, not wanting his face so close to my own. His grip tightens and so does mine, on my wand.

I can feel his cold breath against my neck, it drives a sick feeling through my stomach and for a moment, I fear I might vomit.

He is so close, that only I can hear him speak. I wonder what the others think of this odd display.

"I never meant for this to happen…" he tells me as quietly as he can. My eyes go wide, I try to turn, to catch his eye but his grip on my hair is too tight. I'm locked in place.

He draws in his robes and as he does so, I feel him press something small and cold into my hand.

"Give this to Harry…When it's all over. It unlocks the Potions room. He'll know what to do from there-"

"Severus!" a shrill voice cries.

Involuntarily, my heart begins to pound. I want to turn to you, every second I'm held here, is a second lost.

You move from the large crowd of Death Eaters and over to the two of us.

"Why don't you leave the Mudblood to me?" you say as harshly as you can, "Besides, the Dark Lord has sent me to relay a message to you." I can hear your footsteps, they are soft but sure. You are mere feet behind me; I begin to sweat, I know I'm losing color. The pressure, it's beginning to wear on me.

Quickly, he removes his hands; as though my touch is as hot as fire. He takes a step back, pulling his robed in close. His eyes squint and his nose lifts in a disgusted sneer.

"What is the message?." He asks, it is almost impossible not to feel his apprehension. He holds himself together, however.

You walk around my side and wrap a firm hand around the back of my neck; still, I keep my place.

Your fingernails dig into my skin; I wince against your grip and cry out as you had hoped I would. I can feel blood run down my shoulder and slip over my clavicle.

Like I've always said, Bella. You play your part well, better than any perhaps.

You turn to me, a vicious smile playing at your lips.

"Oh, have I hurt the Mudblood?" you spit, pushing me to the ground. I remain in place, knowing this is all a part of the plan.

Tonight is about pain, loss, disconnect. There is no way around it.

You step around me and place your boot heavily on my hip, attempting to still me. I can hear you remove your wand from the band around your thigh; instantly, I grow nervous.

I get the feeling we will be performing tonight; for none other than Voldemort himself. I close my eyes; reaching for all my pieces and bringing them back in. I have to keep myself together. I'm so close to letting it all go but I know in doing so, I will have exposed more than just myself.

"Bellatrix!" Snape spits, regaining your attention, "The message?"

"Oh, yes." You say, turning your attention back to Snape, who I can see has grown a shade lighter than white. "I believe he wanted me to inform you, that he expects a visit. He waits at the top of the Northern Tower…" you tell him with a grin. He leaves with no further questions; I catch a glimpse of his billowing robes before he is lost from sight.

That is the last I ever see of Severus Snape.

I pull up my arms as another blow to the foundation of Hogwarts sends the castle shaking. Bits of stone come barreling down and smash against the debris ridden floor.

The room fills with the shrieking of screaming children once again. It is accompanied by laughing and mocking of your fellow Death Eaters.

"Won't be long now, girl." You say, leaning down to me. You lightly drag the tip of your wand down the length of my body, "It'd be wise to tell us where the Potter boy is, you know. I'm sure your death would come a lot quicker if you did so…" you warn, I can see the darkness in your eyes, the vicious smile on your face; but in your touch, I can feel the real you. With every caress, and poke of your wand, you apologize. I know this must be difficult for you; I'll tell you now, Bella, I was never angry that you did this.

"I won't!" I say stiffly, trying my hardest to play my part as well as you play yours. I feel the absence of your touch as you move to stand; you giggle arrogantly against my poorly administered protest.

"Why, you're much braver than I remember; perhaps, I should refresh your memory on who you're dealing with?" you say, pacing around my form. I watch you from the floor, knowing what is to come. I hold my breath, tensing my body before the spell has even hit.

"Well, if that's how you want it, Mudblood…" you warn; I can hear the sadness in your voice. You half believed I would admit where Harry and the others were. You never wanted to do this.

"CRUCIO!" you cry, laughing alongside my agonizing screams.

After that first night with you, at Malfoy Manor, I learned to live through the blinding pain that is the Cruciatus Curse; however, I believe there is no one that can fully absorb the spell without feeling some kind of agony. There are only ways to adjust, unfortunately.

The curse burns through me; it is in my bones, my blood and settles nicely on my skin. I try to breathe through the pain and just as I feel it ease out of me, you speak again.

"Now, are we done playing games? I really don't have the time for this, Girl…" you say without amusement. However, I refuse to give in. If a show is what you want, I'll give it you. If this will save your life, I'll play the game right.

I choke against my swollen tongue, " You might as well kill me now, Bellatrix. I'm not telling you anything…"

Your eyes go wide, furry lights across your face.

"How dare you! How dare you speak my name as if you are worthy!" you shriek, swinging your boot harshly into my side. I fold into myself, unable to breath; tears poor from my eyes as I try to fill my lungs with the breath that you've so severely beaten out of them.

"CRUCIO!" You yell again. I yell with you; I can feel myself involuntarily convulse against the pain. There really is nothing like it; it is a pain too unimaginable to correctly describe.

You fall to your knees, taking a chunk of my hair into your hands; you pull me close, your soft breath soothes my raw flesh.

"Don't do this, Hermione. Lie if you have to. Don't make me do this, Love…" you say sadly, pushing me roughly away from your face. You bring yourself to a stance, preparing to deliver another blow to me.

I can hear the boots of another, they move from the mob and into the center where I lay.

"We're wasting time, Bellatrix! Leave the girl; we can find Potter on our own." Another Death Eater suggests. He is growing nervous, we are all losing time. Voldemort will be expecting you to have found Harry by the time he makes it to the Great Hall.

He'll want the battle to be short and to the point; he's as tired as we are.

"Oh, but I was just starting to have fun." You say happily, "Besides, she'd be wonderful bait. I could use her to lure in Potter and his friends. It'd be only too easy." You say with a smile. You turn to the Death Eater, "Leave here, do what you will with the children. I do not care." You tell him, "I believe some alone time with the _filth_ will loosen her tongue…"

It doesn't take long before the hall erupts into shrieks of pain and death. Jets of green light flash before me and I know the students that cowered before the feet of your "friends" have been permanently removed from this world.

I keep still; I do not think I can handle the sight of the murdered at this moment.

My cheeks are wet and as I look up to you, your figure is wavy and blurred. I blink a few times, willing my tears to disappear.

You fall back to your knees once you are sure we are alone. I can't help it; they come so quick and without warning.

You lift my head into your lap and softy shush me as I cry.

"I'm so sorry…" you tell me over and over again. I want to tell you that it isn't you that's made me so upset. It isn't a singular thing; it's a buildup of it all.

Silence settles between us for a time. The battle that takes place around our perimeter has become somewhat surreal at the moment. We take no notice; we try to enjoy our last moments together.

You run your fingers lightly through my tangled hair and wipe away any remaining tears that stain my cheeks.

I lift myself into a sitting position; with every breath my head threatens to explode. I hear you rustling the skirt of your dress.

"Here," you say, placing a small bottle into the palm of my hand, "It's a tonic…It's what I've been using the last few days, it'll help."

I take the bottle and down the liquid in one swift gulp. Instantly, I can feel my beaten muscles grow stronger and shed away the pain they had been holding only a moment ago. The tonic tastes awful and I try my hardest to suppress a gag.

"Bella, we haven't got much time left." I say, looking to you. I place a firm hand on my forehead in hopes that it'll ease the tilt of the room.

"I have to find Harry…" I mutter to myself. I try to move but I am unable to. My body has refused to obey the command.

I feel your hand, it is strong on me knee; I'm ripped from my thoughts.

"Hermione…" you say softly. I look to you, unsure of how to make out the concern in your voice.

"Harry, he's taking care of himself…" you say strangely. I straighten up, forgetting about my discomfort.

"How do you mean?" I say sternly, knitting my brows together.

"I saw him, just outside the castle before entering here. He's gone off to finish his fight, Hermione." You tell me, leaning back on your knees.

I shake my head, trying to make sense of what you have just told me, "I don't understand. _His_ fight; what do you mean by that?" I ask with a shaking breath. Had I missed something? How could I have missed a detail? I always catch on to every piece, long before the others; how have I missed this?

You place your hand gently on my cheek; I allow the contact but only for an instant.

"Where is Ron then?"

You do not answer right away. Those moments were the longest of my life.

"Bella. Where is Ron?" I ask quietly, trying to find your eyes; you've hidden them behind a curtain of hair. You keep your gaze locked on your boots. Finally, you look to me. I wish you hadn't; I can see too much in them. More than I ever want to know.

"To be honest, I am not completely sure. He wasn't with Harry, if that's what you're asking. I haven't seen any of the others since we left the Room of Requirement…But we have to get you out of here, Love. I expect he'll be arriving soon…I have to get you someplace safe." You say, trying to redirect my thoughts. I can feel your grip tight on my elbow; you take your other arm and wrap it under my own. I'm on my feet in one swift motion.

You support me as we walk; we are leaving the Great Hall…

Something feels off. Where is Ron? The others? What is Harry doing, fighting all by himself?

Why aren't you answering my questions? And furthermore, why am I allowing you to take me from the one place I need to be?

I dig my heels into the stone, slowing our pace. You turn to me and I look to you with a set expression.

"I'm not leaving, Bellatrix. I need to be here. If_ he_ is coming here, then this is where I need to be; what about the snake?"

You're shaking your head in protest.

"It was stupid of me to suggest such a thing. Don't worry about all that. Come." You say, pulling harder. I pull back, feeling the full effects of your tonic.

"Let go!" I say firmly, tearing myself from your grasp. You seem shocked and make a motion to come back at me. I take a step back and draw my wand.

"I'm not running from this, Bella. If You-Know-Who's plan ends in this room; then sooner or later, Harry will come. And I will be here when that happens." I say, pointing the tip of my wand at your chest.

You fold your arms casually across your chest and raise an eye brow in frustration.

I watch as you shift, "You think this is some game, Girl? There are people dying as we speak."

You pause. I wait for you to continue," I thought I could watch you fight; I had thought I was strong enough to handle this…"

You tear your eyes from me, trying to pull together a finish, "But, I can't. You've done strange things to me, Love. Irreversible things…"


	17. Chapter 17

**It is a shame that not all stories can end well.**

"_**As the pain sweeps through,  
Makes no sense for you.  
Every thrill is gone.  
Wasn't too much fun at all,  
But I'll be there for you,  
As the world falls down"**_

_**-Bowie**_

_**-Final-**_

-My time here is running low. It seems that the past year of my former life has been controlled by the minute hand; it is a shame that is has carried on into the "life" I live now. I don't have long; I can feel myself being pulled in the opposite direction of you and for once, I am not afraid to follow it.

I know that you'll be okay. In time…

I watch from over your shoulder as you sit on a rickety chair behind an unreliable desk. Neither of us can honestly say the correct number of Inns you've been to in the last months. It seems as though you've had a new room every night since your departure from the cottage.

One thing that comforts you are the letters from our family; their owls have had no problem in finding you. You reread them every night.

You've received three new notes of concern in just this night. You scan them over in the dim firelight.

Over the past week, my vision has become blurred; I can barely make out the words on this letter, the one in which you take the longest to read…

All I know is that it is from Ron; I can tell by the chunky and slightly crooked flow of the writing. I wish I knew what he has said because as you finish, you slowly drop the weatherworn parchment into the blazing fire. I watch as you tuck the other two into the small pile you have accumulated.

I hear you sigh and heavily lean your head into your weakening hands.

The rest mourn too but there is something more important than grieving over the loss of loved ones and all but you have realized it.

We've won, Bella. It is over and against all odds; it was us that came out on top.

Why can't you appreciate that?

As you move, I move; together we walk to a flattened mattress in the corner of the room. The blankets are torn and dirt ridden but you cover your frail frame with them anyway. I take my seat at the end of the bed. This startles you and your tired eyes shoot open and land to where I am placed. You cannot see me and I do not make an indent on the sheets; you decide it is nothing and will yourself back into an unsteady sleep.

I stay as focused as I can before your form begins to fade into the shadows. It feels as though I am lost within the wind that carries through the open window in your room. I dance around you until all goes dark.-

We're locked in place, unsure of how to settle this little dispute. I've kept my wand steady; we both know that it is an empty threat but a threat nonetheless.

"Well, it seems there is nothing that I can do to persuade you…" you say quietly, squinting some as you do so.

"No, there isn't." I reply solidly.

Just then, we hear a deafening _crack_! come from the Entrance Hall. Our heads turn to the sound then back again.

"He's here." you whisper worriedly and before I have time to think, you've already acted.

I'm on the ground again; the room is spinning but the cool stone floor eases my flush cheeks. I can feel the hot print of your hand burn into the side of my face; tears slip from my eyes as I watch him enter through a blur behind a mob of excited Death Eaters.

His presence is viciously cold and yet, fiery hot. He walks on bare feet to where you are standing.

I can feel his eyes on me; they take a quick glance before they find their way back to you.

"I was wondering where you had run off to, Bellatrix…" he says in a high, clear voice, "Having fun?" he asks; I feel as though this is an accusation. As though he knows more than he lets on. But how could we be so stupid as to think he didn't? How could we have thought we would be able to keep this hidden from _him_?

You try to keep your confidence but there is something about him; he knows, better than I, how to get to you.

You take a step back from me; I try to keep as still as possible. By this point, a complete half circle of Death Eaters have formed around us; all of them watch with smug eyes. They can't wait for you to get yours; they burn for it.

"My Lord…I was just loosening the Filth's tongue; she'd know where the Potter Boy is…she'd know." You say quickly. Your head is bowed; you look up to him with fearful eyes.

"Ah…But we've already found Potter, my dear Bellatrix…" he says in the same tone as before.

"Have you?" you whisper worriedly.

I've never seen you so afraid; I feel this is not a game anymore. This is real. Real terror; real concern for your life and where it will go from this moment on…

"Yes, we have…" he replies, stepping closer. His eyes can see deeper into you than even I. I hate it. Every moment of it; I feel as though my very eyes will tear from their sockets.

He gestures with a long, pail arm. In that instant, the mob of Death Eaters step to the side, allowing Hagrid access into the center of the circle.

A slow, defeated line of beaten and bloody students follow in step. They seem less concerned with whom they are surrounded and more interested in what Hagrid has cradled in his arms.

There is no violence at the moment. It has been ceased, due to a lifeless Harry Potter that Hagrid holds close to his chest.

At this point, I've given up on expecting to explode. It seems my body just won't allow it; I will just have to suffer through every stab that comes from the blade that is my life.

Voldemort turns to his on lookers; his arms held spread out wide.

"Do you see? I have defeated your hero! There is no one left to protect you; except me, of course." He says in a high voice. He is smiling, he is ecstatic by his performance. He feels he has truly won. He is confident that his enemies will soon bow down and accept him as their Lord.

I'm still on the ground, looking up at him, at everyone. No one notices me; I feel I am the safest as the moment.

I watch as Voldemort turns back to you; his eyes have darkened. I fear he knows our secret. You speak first.

"This is good news, my Lord. We have won!" you say cheerfully. He isn't buying it, Bella. I can see his disbelief. He is deeply saddened by the loss of his most faithful and what he'll have to do to her now that he knows the truth.

I don't think it was something we could have controlled; I knew, deep down that he would have found out in the end. I have been waiting for this.

I hate to say this but you will be the distraction. I won't come to your aid as he tortures you with the same spell you tortured me. For the greater good, you'll have to endure it, again and again and again.

Finally, he speaks. He moves before you and caresses your soft cheek with a cold and boney finger.

He leans in; all breathing stops. Each person strains to hear what it is he has to say.

"I know your secret, Bellatrix…your dirty, unforgivable secret."

Your eyes widen. You know this is the end and you know it will take a long time to reach.

I half expected you to lie; you are a Master Occlumens after all. But you don't and I feel my stomach hit the back of my throat.

"Who told you?" you whisper weakly.

Voldemort leans back in an attempt to catch your eye. He is smiling, "No one has to tell me, Bellatrix. I can smell it on you. Each thought of her spits from your mind and into mine. There is no lying to The Dark Lord. You know what we do to those who defy me…unfortunately, it is the only option. For, if I spared you, I'd have to spare the others who have wronged me. I never wanted to do this…you leave me no choice."

In an instant your eyes shoot from his, to mine. So raw your fear is. I can tell there is so much you want to say but the door to do so has closed. I try to keep myself composed. I can't let you down.

I catch of glimpse of you as you turn to run; it is your only defense.

He is too quick. We all knew this would happen.

"CRUCIO!" he screams; you scream louder.

I move quickly, shuffling on my tummy under the eyes of Death Eaters and students. I try not to look at Harry, who remains limp and lifeless against Hagrid.

My target sits unknowing behind the circle. Watching with curious eyes through the many legs and boots in front of her.

She knows I am coming; I slowly reach into the small bag I have around my neck. As quietly as I can, I pull out the Sword of Gryffindor. My hands shake and slip around the handle; I try to keep steady for she has not seen me yet.

Her tongue tastes the air as she moves anxiously back and forth. She wants to warn her master but at the moment, he is consumed in the eventual death of his most faithful.

The screams that tear from you make my skin crawl. I break out into a cold sweat; it takes every fiber of me, not to turn as defend you. But, we both know how that would end. So, I do the only thing that could keep us from plummeting into pain and darkness for the rest of eternity.

I kill the snake.

Her eyes are like needles. They pierce me as I come nearer. I don't look away. She will know who takes her life.

She coils in, in an attempt to protect herself. Her hiss is powerful and I can see she will strike at any moment.

I haven't planned out how I will shield myself from her fangs or the poison that drips from them; I don't have time to.

The window to a better life has almost completely shut. I am unsure if this will even ensure a better future, after all, we would still have to stop what is left of Voldemort's heart and without Harry, I feel that would be almost impossible.

I push myself to my knees; I hold the blade out before me. I figure I'll wait for her to strike; I'll coerce her. Make it impossible for her to stay bound up. I inch nearer, holding the sword out as I do so. She moves away, hissing all the while.

Your torture continues. I am running out of time. I can hear you grow tired. You're about to let go; anything to rid yourself of that fiery pain.

The sounds of the room begin to fuzz; my adrenalin takes over and the cheering of the Death Eaters turns to static.

I've got her against the wall. I can tell she is panicked; soon, she will have no choice but to strike. I raise the sword above my head, eager for her attack. I watch her eyes swivel in hopes she catch a last glimpse of her master.

Her time clock stops and I watch as her muscles tighten and release into a defensive strike.

I swing and grit my teeth as her own sink into the soft flesh of my arm. She recoils; I let my blood spill. I have to keep focused. She is ready for another attack.

It happens before I can blink; I swing wildly; unknowing of how to properly handle a sword. The blade hits flesh and my eyes dart closed. The pain is too intense. I let myself cry out, for I know I will go unnoticed. Sweat pours down my neck and back.

I open my eyes.

To my surprise, Nagini is dead. Her fangs latch into the bone of my shoulder, her back half lies bloody and detached on the wet stone floor. Hastily, I reach up and tear her off of me. I am losing blood but am still too frazzled to think of a proper spell. I apply hard pressure and wipe away the sweat on my brow.

Just then, my hearing clears and I find that there are no more screams. Once again, the breathing in the room has ceased and I feel a pair of strong, cold hands on the back of my neck.

The drag me back and cut me off from my air supply. I tear at his fingers and kick as he pulls me back behind the wall of his followers.

I can't make out what he is screaming. All I know is that it is loud and vicious. But with it carries something else; to me, it feels like loss. As though the only thing in his life worth caring for has been ripped from his hands; As though, his very heart has been pulled from his chest.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" he bellows, tossing me to the ground. I look up; his eyes and any life left in them have gone blank. He is lost in his fury.

I see you before his spell hits; you're in the fetal position with your arms wrapped protectively over your head.

I am too numb at the moment. My mind won't process a thing; I try to reach you, I need to feel you. To make it all okay again but just as my bloody fingers reach out, I'm hit with something so incredibly painful that it is almost as though I cannot feel it at all.

I writhe before him, unable to vocalize my immense discomfort.

Voldemort, we all know how he feels about torture but as I dance within the cruciatus curse for the umpteenth time, I know there is something different about the pain.

I've heard him laugh along with the screams of his victims; they fuel him but now that the last of his soul has died, he finds my pain the least bit entertaining.

He is on a mission, to destroy who destroyed him. He thought Harry was all he had to worry about.

He makes me pay for my loyalty, for my bravery.

I'm in his arms again. You remain in place; I do not blame you for your submissiveness.

"You will die tonight." He spits into my ear; his grip on my throat growing tighter.

My fingernails tear into his flesh, this does not faze him.

"Did you honestly think you could overthrow me? How incredibly stupid of you..." he seethes.

I feel my eyes begin to pop; the blood in my body rushes to my head.

It is strange, Bella, how unafraid I was at that moment. I accepted my fate; I knew I had done the right thing and that if I was to die for doing it, that that wouldn't be so bad…

I see you move from the corner of my bloodshot eye. The last of you has decided to fight, I wish you wouldn't. I wish you would just stay put and stay as safe as possible. You grab your wand and lift it with a shaking arm.

You try to muster up your strength but I am afraid he has taken that last of you.

You are as close to death as I am.

I try to choke out a protest but his grip tightens further, cutting me off completely.

The room begins to spin and fade; here it comes, my end….

I close my eyes; it will be easier that way. I can't bare the sight of you.

I feel him spin us toward you.

"Expelliarmus!" he cries, tearing your wand from your hands.

"You'll watch me stop her heart, Bellatrix. Know that it was you that killed her…" he says, viciously.

I'm glad I've kept my eyes closed; I feel the look on your face alone would be enough to kill me.

"Please, don't…." you cry, I hear you shuffle closer. The room fills with the crack of his laugh.

"CRUCIO!" he says again, sending you into an uncontrolled fit of convulsions.

He turns away and faces his followers… I can almost feel their terror; they've never seen him so out of control, so unpredictable. They feel that any sound made will send them to their grave; they stand stiffly before us and wait for it to be over.

Instantly, I am released and I fall to the ground, gasping and choking; I feel the thick, blood filled air singe my deprived lungs.

The bruises around my neck are instantaneous; I look up to him expectantly. We make eye contact for a time and as he lifts his wand, I catch a glimpse of Harry. He falls from Hagrid's arms and acts faster than I ever thought possible.

His aim is firm and perfectly straight. In that moment, the crowd breaks and the fight continues.

Flashes of light whizz in every direction; people of all status fall dead and litter our battleground.

It is the four of us that remain in place. We all watch each other, waiting and wondering.

"Now, Harry!" I scream but it is too late.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" they echo and together we both fall lifelessly to the ground.

**oOo**

I watch for a time.

The battle ensues until the Death Eaters realize what has happened. When they do, they set off; leaving behind a dissipating stream of inky black smog.

Many cry over my lifeless body; it takes hours before I am removed and placed somewhere a bit more comfortable.

Days pass in silence; there is too much grief, too much blood to clean and so many bodies to burry.

I do not return again until my family has safely and successfully made it back to the cottage.

Not once do you leave your room; the room in which we shared so long ago.

You accept nothing and stay hidden.

You leave in the silence of the night a month later. By that point, everyone is on their way back to normality. They are allowing themselves to smile again, this pleases me.

I follow you as you bounce from town to town; trying to find something to fill the hole in your chest.

I watch as you drink yourself stupid. I sit with you every night and wish I could assure you, I am happy now.

Two weeks after you burnt Ron's letter, I stand in the middle of a dark and damp room. A pub room you've rented for the night.

You watch the moon, I watch with you.

The stars are bright tonight, Bella. The sky, clear as ice.

I move closer and place a ghostly hand on your boney shoulder. I feel you tense and slowly you move your head, catching for the first time, the sight of me.

I smile at you; you remain frozen in place.

"Stop doing this, Bella…go back home to our family…they miss you." I whisper.

You say nothing but continue watching in disbelief.

"I loved you…I hope you know that." I say sadly.

Enough, enough of this. I let myself go, tired of this place. I've done my job and it made all the difference. I can rest, knowing it wasn't for nothing.

I guess in the end, it wasn't all bad news. The rest can live on now, knowing they are free from fear and death.

It was the right thing to do. I'm happy for it.

_**END. **_


	18. Chapter 18

**Alternate Ending**

**I was unsure for awhile if I should do this. I got so many wonderful reviews and how the story ended was how I wanted it to. But after so much time and reattempts at writing another Bellamione story…and failing…I thought I'd a hand at a continuation of this one, or at the very least an alternate ending, for those of you who really didn't like the ending, and wanted something perhaps a bit happier. I hope you all continue to enjoy it.**

**Part One.**

Flashes of light whizz in every direction; people of all status fall dead and litter our battleground.

It is the four of us that remain in place. We all watch each other, waiting and wondering.

"Now, Harry!" I scream but it is too late.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" they echo and together Voldemort and I fall to the floor. I feel the light of his curse fly by my head on my way to the brick flooring. I land heavily on my chest, the air in my lungs forced from my body. There is a heavy weight on my back, pinning me down and I see the Great Hall start to tip and wobble. This is the last thing I remember of that night; the echoes of cheering still come to me as I wake from a lingering dream I can barely remember.

I feel hands, gentle hands. They cup my cheek and caress my lips. There are voices; I cannot be sure whose they are. My body shifts from a weight I am unsure of and I feel another pair of hands on my legs. They too are gentle. I let my mind reach the outside world before I open my eyes. It takes awhile; perhaps a few days but in that time I remain asleep. When I am conscious, everything hurts. My head pounds and my mouth is dry, it hurts to breathe.

"Oh, Hermione…" someone says. The voice is so familiar and so comforting. I try to smile, try even to say something but I cannot. Not yet, anyway. What I can guess to be the next day, a sliver of light appears in my line of sight. My eyes are heavy and feel puffy but I open them slowly and blink a few times. Everything is blurry and out of place. I am confused but then I see him, a dark haired boy at the edge of my bed. He is sitting with his hands in his lap, inspecting his nails. I see healing cuts on his face and knuckles but other than that he looks normal. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. His head turns, eyes wide and bright at the sight of me. He then rushes from the room, leaving me alone to make sense of my surroundings. I am in a hospital bed, a light blue blanket covering my body. To my right is the door that the boy ran out of and to the left is a pair of windows, one of which is cracked open. The sky is bright and clear I can hear birds. There is a sweet, summer breeze and it rushes through the crack and into my room.

My attention is torn from the window when the boy returns, he is not alone. There is another boy, he is pale and red headed and with him is a larger woman who also has red hair; a doctor follows close behind but is the only one to come forth. H

"How are you feeling?" he asks, twisting off the cap to a black bottle, he pours the liquid onto a spoon. Before I can answer he tilts the spoon's contents into my dry and stick mouth.

"This is a tonic. It will help with the bruising and your headaches. I'll be back every few hours to give you another dose. I'm sure you must be starving, I'll alert the elves." He tells me with a small smile and leaves. When he is gone I cough, trying not to spit. That tonic was horrendous!

My eyes find the group of people. They stand in a half circle around me, just watching. All of them are so familiar it's almost maddening. Finally, the plump woman speaks.

"Hermione, dear. Oh, we are so glad you have woken. Here, are you thirsty? Have some water. Would you like help sitting up?" says the woman in a rush. Her eyes are red and fresh tears spill onto her cheeks. I do not refuse her offer for help and slowly she rearranged my pillows, helping me to sit up. I try to say thank you but my throat is so dry, it feels as though I've swallowed handfuls of sand.

"No need to talk dear, here you go." She says, putting the cup to my lips. The water is relieving as it runs down my throat, cooling the burning sensation and riding my mouth of that terrible bitter liquid. I lick my lips and smile.

"Merlin…I should get the others." She says and rushes out. I look to the boys, who haven't said a word but remain staring at me. I look away, feeling awkward. I clear my charred throat.

"W-where, where am I?" I ask in a small, tired voice. The boys look to one another then back at me.

"St. Mungo's, Hermione. Where else?" The redhead says. I mouth the words 'St. Mungo's', I know that name, I know this place; those faces, the voices…I know it all but it isn't until I feel _you_, that it all comes barreling back to me. The plump, redheaded woman returns; she is with yet another redhead group of redheads. There is a girl, perhaps my age, another boy a bit older than myself and a man, possibly the husband of the woman. Close to the door, is you, I only get a glimpse before the older man comes forth, kneeling at my side.

"How are you?" he asks kindly, taking my hand in his. He is gentle.

"I'm not sure yet." I say honestly, peering past the man to you. You are looking at me and when I catch your eye; my entire body breaks out in a whirl of tingles. Your steps are light and slow but it does not take long before you are standing at my side.

"Let's just give them a minute, shall we?" the woman says, "We'll be back soon, dear." She rounds up the others and together they leave. You grab a chair that's next to my nightstand and sit, instantly taking my hands in yours. I feel a rush of warmth and my stomach flips but I am unsure why. You have cuts on your arms and there are bruises on your jaw line.

"Hermione, Love…I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you've woken." You say, your voice low and husky. I do not know how to respond, so I don't. But then you lean in, and I feel my heart jump and slam against my chest. A faint smell of roses and rich tobacco fills my senses and as your black hair falls down and onto my torso, you capture my lips with your own.

In that moment, I see everything. The battle, the death, the terror in the eyes of the dying but most of all, I see Harry as he screams the Killing Curse at Voldemort. I hear Voldemort's shrill voice cry the same curse but at me. I feel the warmth of it as it flies past my head. It misses me by a fraction of an inch. Everywhere there is chaos. Everything is melting together. I feel heavy and then all goes dark.

I push away from you, pulling in large breaths of air. Your eyes are wide and I cannot stop breathing. Panic fills me and pricks at my insides; I cannot help but grab hold of you. You begin to look frantic.

"What is it, Love, what's wrong?" you say, searching my eyes for the answer. I shake my head and try to speak but I cannot.

"You need to calm down, slow your breathing!" you demand, taking my hands. You kiss them, never once looking away from me.

"Slow, Love. Slow breaths." You reassure and I do all I can to follow your direction. After a moment, I am able to collect myself. I am shaking and my mouth is dry, I take the water and empty the glass.

"Voldemort. Is he dead?" I ask, eyes swiveling to and from you and the door. How I wish Harry and Ron and the others would return.

"Yes, he is. You need not worry anymore, Love. We are safe now…" you say, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"What of the school? Hogwarts?" I continue, panic rising in my voice.

"The school took heavy damage but is undergoing some reconstruction. It will begin soon, during the summer Holidays." You tell me, moving from the chair to my bed. You lift your legs and sit cross legged; your dress fanning out in a circle around you.

"And how long have I been here?" I wonder, looking back to the door but you quickly capture my attention once again.

"We all have been here a little over a week. It was only a few days ago that any of us were able to get out of bed." I nod, eyes falling to the white hem of your dress.

"But, can we not talk about all this? You need your rest, you haven't the strength to worry this much. Everything is over anyway. The Dark Lord is forever dead and now for forever there isn't anything to worry about…" you tell me, leaning over to me. I cannot help but smile and so I run a hand through your wild, black hair as your lips meet my own. I feel like I am lost within a dream. For, I was sure my death was inevitable..


	19. Chapter 19

**PART TWO**

**Thank you so much for the comments! Now please, tell me if I should continue. I have a small idea of how I could continue but if it isn't needed then I won't. Let me know what you think **

"_I know the bad's gotta fix itself,_

_Correct over time,_

_And I know 'cause I've got the cure."_

Tegan and Sara

We all left three days later, venturing back to Shell Cottage. Entering the small home, we find Bill and Fleur working hard to prepare for our return. The dining room table is covered in an assortment of food. The smell makes my mouth water, makes my stomach growl and bite angrily at my insides. The food at St. Mungo's was not five star and most meals left you feeling sleepy and sluggish.

There is an array of greetings. Bill hugs his family while Fleur stands quietly to the side, smiling. Bill comes to me and smiles, embracing me tightly. Chatter and laughter fill the cottage; I however, remain at your side, quiet and watchful.

"Why don't you all go set your things in your rooms, clean up a bit, rest if you wish. Dinner will be ready for you when you are finished." Bill says, holding an arm out toward the many rooms in the back of the house. We all disperse; Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, you and I all climb the staircase, while Molly and Arthur take the rooms on the first floor. There is no discussion on who gets which room; I believe we all silently agreed to take the rooms we had occupied so many months ago. You take the first door to the left and Ron to the right. Harry walks to the end of the hall, taking the room neighboring Ron's with Ginny following behind him; George takes the room neighboring ours. You allow me to enter first; I walk to the bed and set down my jacket. I hear the door close and when I turn around; you already have me in an embrace. Again, it seems unreal; your touch, smell, my heart beat…When I had lost consciousness, I thought that had been the end. My mind and body felt separated, I was in peace and nothing hurt but before too long I felt a wicked force pull me back, spinning me and returning me into my body.

"We are alone, you know…" you whisper into my ear, muttering a silencing spell on our door. It glides over the walls of the room, "And we will not be heard…" you assure, sliding your soft hands down my sides. I smile, my eyes close, enjoying the way you feel on me.

"I'm not sure now is the time, Bella." I tell you, softly. You push and I fall to our bed.

"Perhaps you are right." You say, biting down on my neck. I try not to make a sound; I am not afraid of being heard but I know any noise from me will encourage your behavior. It isn't that I don't want to, I do…But, I still feel detached, unreal; I still feel like I am dreaming. Your hand slides up my inner thigh, while the other holds your weight. You are bent over me and like always your curly black hair falls down like blinds on a window. There is heat, rising up and as hard as I try, I cannot suppress the moan that tears from me. I feel your smile against my neck.

"It isn't funny…" I breathe, pushing on your shoulders. You allow me to move out from under you, falling on your knees with a sad face.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" you ask, my back turned to you. Letting my head fall, I respond in a small voice, "I shouldn't be here, Bella…"

"Whatever do you mean, Love?" You ask, scooting to sit by my side at the edge of the bed. I look to you, unable to stop myself from tearing. I look away and wipe them from my cheeks.

"Don't cry…why would you cry?" you are so concerned, so confused as to what could possibly be wrong. I shake my head, "I don't know. How can I be sure this is real? How can this be real? Everyone was supposed to die and we haven't …what are we to do now?" I can feel the smile that creeps onto your beautiful face, "I understand, Love. It takes time. But I can assure you, this is real." Your hand rests on my back, fingertips sliding up my spine like the whisper of spring on a late winter morning, "And now we are to live like free people; uncaring of blood status and without fear of losing our lives for no particular reason." We sit in silence and I allow your words to roll over in my mind.

"Come, you must be famished. Forget all this for now" you tell me, sliding your fingers to weave within my own. "I've missed you though, Love."

The majority of us gather in the sitting room. Ron of course has a mouthful of food, and I wonder if he is even able to breathe properly. Harry sits on the left of the couch, taking slow bites and watching the fire. Ginny sits closely to him with eyes on her plate. George sips tea to her side and focuses on nothing in particular.

"You need to eat…" you whisper, you have already eaten and sit by my side on the footstool that belongs to the chair I am in. "I'm not hungry." I say with a sigh.

"You are too. Just try."

The cottage sleeps early. Everyone mutters their goodnights and carries on to their rooms. We are the only ones left. I haven't moved from my chair. You take the seat Harry was in, looking into the fire.

"Do we live here now?" I wonder out loud, looking up from my empty plate. Your dark eyes shine from the light of the fire and you shrug, "I guess that is up to us. We can go anywhere we want, and live wherever we fancy."

"I want to stay close. I don't want to leave Harry and Ron." I tell you, standing to move to your side. I can tell this was not exactly what you wanted to hear, and I am sorry for that.

"Of course, Love. This is your family. We will stay close." you tell me, sliding a thumb down my cheek. I fall asleep with my head on your lap. You pet my hair until you are sure I am no longer awake.

I stir in the middle of the night, my body covered in sweat. I sit up, breathing heavy with my eyes already adjusted to the darkness. I am in my bed; you are sleeping soundly next to me. The curtains are open and the sky is clear, stars twinkling brightly, there isn't a cloud in sight. I don't remember my nightmare but I can hear screaming and I feel the right side of my cheek where a strange warmth lingers there. Slowly and quietly, I scoot my way out of bed. You do not wake as I walk across our room and out into the dark and silent hallway. I close the door on you and walk down to the end of the hall, opening the door to the right. I do not hesitate to step inside, I do not feel as though there are boundaries between the trio anymore; for we have seen one another at our worst, and even worse than that. Harry and Ginny are snuggled close and he wakes as I walk on quiet feet to his bedside.

"Hermione?" he whispers, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and sitting up. Ginny does not stir.

"Harry…" I say softly. He gets up and meets me.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he whispers kindly.

"I had a nightmare, I guess. I couldn't get back to sleep." I lie, looking to the black floorboards.

"Come on." He says, taking me by the hand. He leads me downstairs and prepares a pot of hot water, when it is done he brings to the table two mugs of tea.

"This will help, I've added a bit of Dreamless Sleep to yours." He says, blowing away the rising steam. I look to my right, where a window is placed; there is a sliver of the outside showing between to two drawn curtains. The color of the night is lightening, everything looks blue, all except the ocean. The ocean can be heard from inside the cottage, it crashes against the shore, the color of gun metal. It eases me.

"Thanks, Harry." I say, taking a small sip.

"Don't mention it."

We sit until the sun casts its early morning rays against the shore.

"I don't know what to do, Harry." I tell him, hoping he'll have the answer.

"…I understand. I've felt the same way. I mean- it's nice and all, that everything is over but…we haven't really had the chance at a normal life, have we?" he responds, finishing the last of his tea. I can feel my eyes growing heavy, I've only drank half my tea, knowing that if I were to finish it quickly, I wouldn't have the chance to talk to Harry.

"No, we haven't." I tell him, ignoring the sound of the creaking floorboards. I can guess it is Molly, or perhaps Fleur.

"Well, that's what we'll do now. Just live normally. After the school is finished being rebuilt, we could always go back." he suggests, it is a good suggestion.

"Maybe. That would be for the best. Can you imagine, Harry, A whole year without interruptions, without the worry of death on our tails?" I ask, sipping more tea. He chuckles lightly, "No, I can't. Can you?"

"No."

He is quiet for a time, then as the door to one of the downstairs rooms opens, rapidly he spits "I've been thinking of asking Ginny to marry me…" there are footsteps, they are quick so we stand and make for the staircase. I haven't the time to respond to his statement but as we part in the hallway, with a quick hug, it leaves me thinking of you and what to do with you. Where to go with Us and how truly I love you. It dawns on me that my life now has no plan; there is nothing for me that I must do. There is simply everything and nothing and I am free to choose. And I believe that is what has been frightening me so very much. I've never had a life of my own or grand plans for the future. For, I honestly believed that the end was back in the Great Hall only a few weeks ago. That thought to me was safe; it kept me going, because if I had believed that there was a chance I think I would have made a mistake, from fear of losing it all. I went from start to finish, always believing we were already dead. It made the loss of others hurt less, and it made my fear for the inevitable almost none. If I believed I had already lost everything I wouldn't fear of losing it once it was lost…but now, that plan has been foiled and I stand in our room with your light and rhythmic breathing filling my ears, empty and confused as to what my next move should be. I've never not had the answers; I've never not known how to solve a problem…

I walk to the end of the bed and climb in, careful not to touch you. As I settle down, my back to you, I feel gentle arms wrap around my middle. Your warm breath tickles my neck and I smile, I cannot help it.

"Why did you leave? You were gone for so long…" you whisper, pressing yourself closer to me.

"I couldn't sleep." I say, rolling over to look at you. You're biting down on your bottom lip, a mischievous smile playing on your face.

"You should have told me…I could've helped, better than Harry Potter, anyway." You say slyly, tickling my sides with soft touches. You slip your hand under my shirt; my tummy breaks out in goosebumps.

"How did you know I went to talk to Harry?" I wonder, trying to ignore your hand.

"It was a guess. A good guess I can see." You tell me, dipping your hand beneath the waistband of my pajama bottoms. I do not stop you, I thought about it but now that you've reached me I've realized this is just what I've needed. You lean in, your plump lips on mine. Our tongues teasing, exploring; something I have missed greatly. I open myself to you, allowing you better access. I keep my eyes closed, losing myself in the feeling. Our actions continue, leaving us in a naked and tangled mess. It ends with your black hair fanned out over my stomach, with me breathing heavily; my fingers entangled in your mane. I reach my peak and in that moment I care not of the noises I make or if anyone can hear me. I lay there huffing and puffing, a thin sheen of sweat glistens over us. You come up from between me, smiling wider than I have seen in a long time. I am tired now, so tired and my eyes grow heavy. I smile down at you and motion for you to return to me; all I want is to sleep now, sleep with you next to me and dream away the day. But that would be too easy, that would be me asking far too much. Someone has knocked upon our door. You look to me and I to you and over to the door.

"Yes?" I call, now extremely embarrassed. For I am sure the entire cottage could hear me.

"Breakfast…" Ron calls back, "Is ready…"

…"Thanks, Ron…We'll be down momentarily…" I wait until his footsteps can be heard descending the creaky staircase before I say anything…

"…Do you think they heard us?" I ask, propping myself on my elbows.

"I don't think so, you weren't _that_ loud, Love." You respond with a smile. I fall back, hiding my face beneath my pillow.

I act casual as we enter the living room. Everyone looks up from their food.

"Oh, good morning, Dears, Breakfast is on the table" Molly says. I catch George's smile but when our eyes meet it fades. I clear my throat, "Thank you, Molly…" I say, walking to the table. You follow close behind; you don't seem to be bothered by the fact that our lovemaking could be heard throughout the entirety of the cottage. In fact, I feel you might be oblivious to the eyes and hidden smiles as we walk amongst our family. I fill my plate with more than I can eat, mostly because my mind has wondered off, thinking of ways to play off my embarrassment as if I am as carefree as you are.

"I'll just eat off your plate, then?" you whisper, I look at you then to my plate. It is fully loaded.

"Oh…"

I eat in silence, I do not take my eyes off my food. George mentions to Harry that he's decided to continue on with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and that perhaps Ron would like to be his partner.

"So, what'd you say, Ron? Partners?" George asks as enthusiastically as possible. Ron stops mid bite,

"Well, I was thinkin I might finish school, actually." He says, looking to Molly. She smiles widely, "That's lovely, Ron!" She says, walking over to kiss his cheek.

"I'm sure, Harry and Hermione will be joining you. That is your plan, isn't it?" she asks the two of us. I look up for the first time.

"We were thinking about it." I say, looking to Harry. He nods and looks to Ginny, she smiles lightly. You've distanced yourself. Not too far away, but your legs are no longer pressed against mine. For some strange reason, the skirt of your dress has become overly fascinating. I have an inkling as to why.

"I think you should do more than think about. With the war over now, you'll have a chance at a years worth of uninterrupted learning. There is nothing keeping you from returning." Molly says, taking plates from hands and walking into the kitchen, "I'm surprised it was Ron who mentioned it. I was sure it would be you, Hermione." She says from the other room. Ron looks in her direction with a "Thanks…" sort of look on his face.

"But, the summer is only just beginning. Let's just enjoy it, shall we?" she says, smiling as the dishes clean themselves behind her.

"Excuse me." you say, I look to you as you stand from your seat. You do not look at me as you leave and make your way back up the stairs. In that moment, Ron, Harry and Ginny stand and make for the front door. I am conflicted.

"Don't be too long, lunch is in a few hours!" Molly calls as they exit, their footsteps creak the wooden stoop until they've reached the sand.

"Breakfast was delicious, Molly, thank you." I say kindly and decide to return back to our room. I open the door and find you seated, staring out the window, on our bed. Ron, Harry and Ginny can be seen on the shore, walking its length; occasionally, Ron casts a stone into the dark water.

"Bella?" I ask quietly, you do not answer. I walk to you and seat myself at your side. There is a moments silence before you say anything.

"The war is over but consequences have yet to come." You tell me in a gentle whisper.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've done awful things, Love. Terrible, terrible things and there are very few who know me as you do. Actually, there is none other than you... Even your family I can tell does not completely trust me. How can I blame them? I will be punished, that much is certain."

"I think everyone is more concerned with the fact that Voldemort is dead…not that his followers are still alive. I wouldn't worry, Bella." I say, trying to ease your nerves.

"And there is one more thing." You say, ignoring my comment and turning to look at me, "I am a fare bit older than you, aren't I?" you say, it is not a question but a fact that you felt necessary to point out.

"I don't see how that is relevant." I respond, growing defensive, "You don't choose who you fall in love with."

"This is true…" silence…. "You will return to school. And I will remain in hiding for as long as I can. As soon as the Ministry is on its feet again, I can't imagine it will take too long before I am back in Azkaban." Your words hit like a hot knife in my gut. I look away and back again, flabbergasted.

"What has gotten in to you? Why are you talking like this? If I remember properly, it was you only a few days ago that reminded me that we haven't anything to worry about anymore. And now you're all sullen and pessimistic." I spit, honestly angry at your sudden change of mood.

"I'm sorry, Love but I'm only pointing out the obvious." You respond, without a trace of emotion. It's as if some sort of vacuum as come and sucked out your entire personality. And so quickly, without notice.

"Well, what do you suppose we do then? Go our separate ways? I didn't know it'd be so easy for you, Bella." I say, my temper rising more and more. Why is it that you can doubt and worry and hurt but when I do, I'm being silly? For, there isn't anything left to worry about, the Dark Lord is forever dead…we're those not your words to me?

"I didn't say that, Hermione." You take my hand but I take it back.

"I understand if you're scared. I am too. I understand if you're unsure about what to do next but don't threaten me…Don't just assume things. So what if I want to return to school, finish my last year? Why does that bother you so much? And don't tell me it doesn't, I know it does. That's what's got you thinking this way." I say, looking out the window. Ron, Harry and Ginny are walking back down the shore and toward the cottage. The sky is bright, as are their smiles. I can feel the temperature rising outside from inside of our room. It is beginning to make me sweat, I remove my sweater. We were lucky, there were clothes left in the drawers from the time we spent here so long ago.

"And what happens when you go off to school and everyone finds out the terrible things you've been doing with a terrible former Death Eater? You don't think they'll have your head? Not to mention my being an older woman and all." You respond, turning toward me. This time, you demand my hands. I do not pull away but look at you angrily.

"Don't look at me like that."

"And how exactly am I supposed to look at you?" I wonder, sarcastically. You let out a sigh and a half smile, I am still not smiling.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Love. Staying with me not only will be difficult, but it could be potentially deadly. And when the Ministry—"

"Will you stop with the Ministry!" I cry, panic flowing through me. I think of what my life would be without the war, without all the friends I've lost, without my family, without you…You've left me wondering about how awful going back to one of the only places I've ever felt safe could be…it's a bitter feeling, sour and sick. You yank my hands, in turn pulling me into you. My arms wrap around your waist, my head onto your chest.

"I'm sorry…I really am, Love. I just don't want to lose you. Not after everything, not after how much you've grown on me."

We spend that day in our room. Ignoring the calls for lunch and even dinner. This time, I was sure to have a silencing charm placed over our room. I got to know you well that afternoon. Doing things I was sure a character like myself would never do; there is something about you, Bella, you pull out of me a monster that only you can control. I woke in the night with sore muscles and a growling stomach. I'm sure the sore spots on my body are bruises from our romp. I smile to myself and roll over with you at my side and the moon bright in a clear night sky. As a fall to sleep, I decide that even my worries now are none compared to the worries I had during the war. That with whatever madness comes, I know I'll be prepared and ready to fight back…


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! **** Makes me so happy. I am going to keep going, to see where this story goes. I have a few ideas and am having a lot of fun writing for this story again. Like I said in the beginning of all of this, I usually make stuff up as I go, so if you have any ideas or really want to see something specific happen, let me know. I'll credit you for the help, of course. **** Thanks again, guys!**

**Part Three**

The summer Holidays passed quickly and ever so slowly. It is strange, how the two mixed so perfectly and yet, so painfully. The evenings, those went by like a blink between breaths but I had you to thank for that. During the day, while the others were around, the clock seemed to stop. I was forced to think about the next steps I would take in my life, all the while trying to ease back into a regular style of living. Needless to say, we were all going through an acute form of PTSD. A week or so after we arrived at the cottage, we all fell into a rhythm. You and I would venture outdoors with Ron, Harry, Ginny and George. Once outside, pairs would go off in other directions wanting to be alone with the one person they felt they could be alone best with.

Each time, I took us to the tree atop that hill. The leaves were full and bright green and it made for a great shady spot. I'd lay with my head in your lap, staring up at the cloudless blue sky thinking of nothing in particular.

Today is the same as any other. The crashing of the ocean waves can be heard from where we sit underneath our tree. Your fingers slide over my hair, occasionally twisting around an unruly curl, and tucking it back into place.

"The summer is about over." You state, gently sliding your thumb down my cheek. I look up at you and let out a heavy breath. I've been full of those breaths; the ones that seem so suffocate you and once released brings a sense of freedom. But I haven't had the good fortune of feeling the freedom, instead, the breaths get heavier, more restricting than the last.

"What is it, love?" you ask, leaning back against the tree. I sit up and turn over, so that I am looking at you.

"I've decided to go back. To go back to Hogwarts." I say, the words like a block of lead as they leave my mouth. This time, it is your turn to sigh.

"I expected you to. And I think it's the proper decision." You say, smiling a most beautiful smile; although, I know it isn't sincere.

"I've already spoken with Molly. She said your staying at the cottage while I'm away wouldn't be a problem. She said it was expected, and welcomed." I reassure, hoping I can make that fake smile transform into a real one.

You say nothing, but look down at your hands and fidget.

"I'll be home for the Holidays." I say, doing all I can to convince you, "And it'll only be for a year. Then I'm done and we can do whatever we want then."

"I know, love. Like I said, I think it is a splendid idea."

When we return to the cottage, we enter together hand in hand. We stand in the doorway, to find everyone in the living room, seated in a circle. Ginny is the first to stand, she wears a smile and takes my free hand.

"Our letters have come!" she says, taking me to the letter that is placed on the seat of a chair.

"I guess they assumed we'd all be returning" she continues, "it's almost as if the war didn't even happen…almost…" she finishes, whispering the last word. Harry walks to me.

"When do you want to make the trip? We only have about another week." He says, looking to Ron who looks at us with the same stupid expression as always. I try to find my voice, it feels so strange. After everything we've been through, to be going back…

"I guess it'd be wise to go as soon as possible." I say, tearing open my letter. On it is a list of books I will need. It is more extensive than the previous year's letters. I look over Harry's shoulder. His list is shorter but not by much. I have only been given a few extra books. The new Headmaster, whoever that is, must have assumed I would want to take an extra class or two, like I had in the past.

"Then it's settled! We'll go tomorrow morning." Molly says, a bright smile gracing her motherly face, "We'll make it a family event, like we used to." It was nice thought, and I can't lie and say I didn't warm to the idea. I would, as the rest of us, love to forget the terror that has been the last few years. To do something normal and cheery, it sounded splendid. But, I also knew you could not be a part of it. Not with a bounty surely on your head. I was fooling myself if I actually believed what I had said about everyone forgetting the awful things you had done. I knew how idiotic it would be to have you along.

"That sounds nice, Mum. But I think we're old enough to go alone." Ron suggests, trying his best not to sound rude. Molly, put off turns to her youngest son and wipes her hand on her apron.

"What was I thinking, of course you are." And she disappears into the kitchen. Ron wears a weary expression, looking to the rest of us. Ginny shrugs and looks to Harry who looks to me and I to him. I think it is the smartest thing Ron has said in a long time.

"We'll leave first thing in the morning." Harry says, taking Ginny by the hand. Together they leave the cottage once more.

I turn to look at you, a small smile upon my face. But find you aren't beside me. I hadn't even heard you climb the stairs, but when I open the door to our room, you are not there. I make my way back into the living room.

"Have any of you seen Bella?" George looks up from his note pad.

"She left with Harry and Ginny." He says casually, turning his attention back to his notes.

I walk out onto the porch but you are not there. Looking out toward the beach I see both Harry and Ginny, walking along the shore. To my very left, you can be seen, far away from them and from me. A twinge of anger ignites my insides but quickly fades as I walk the down the rickety stairs and over the lumpy sand to the shore to where you stand at the ocean's edge.

"Bella." I say sternly, "Why'd you walk away?"

You're holding a lit cigarette and exhale the smoke before answering. "Needed a smoke is all," you say lamely.

"Did I upset you?" I wonder but you answer quickly, "Not at all, Hermione. I just needed a cigarette. Must I alert you before leaving your side?" you ask. I sense a _hint_ of sarcasm and wonder what I did to put you in such a foul mood. I watch as you take another drag from your smoke, filling your lungs with the toxin. It makes my stomach turn.

"No. I was just asking" I respond. Silence. You do not turn, nor do your acknowledge that I've even said anything, "I'll just leave you to your thoughts then. I'd rather not be in your company while you douse yourself in that stench anyway." I know my words are harsh but you make no indication that they have upset you which frustrates me further. I had said them to pull a reaction out of you but I have forgotten that you are used to verbal abuse, and all the more, used to keeping your mouth shut and your thoughts private. I clench my jaw and storm away, feeling the weight of a loss on my end.

I say nothing when I enter the cottage, walking loudly up the stairs. I must have looked like a child throwing a tantrum because Mum refused to give me what I wanted. I lay on our bed, on my back with my hands behind my head, doing what I can to ease my temper. We have bickered before but never have you shut me out quite like that and for an unknown reason. That's what angers me, not knowing why or what or how to fix it.

When I wake up some hours later, groggy and disoriented, I find a dark sky with you sleeping soundly next to me. I am wearing my pajamas. You must have changed me into them while I slept. I hate sleeping angry and know there are only a few hours left before I leave for Diagon Alley. I don't want to leave without talking to you. I want to fix whatever it is that upset you.

I feather my fingers down your side. My hand quivers at the contact. You inhale deeply and I pull away thinking I woke you but you continue to breath steadily with sleep. More than I hate going to bed angry, I hate the feeling of us on rocky terms. I lean down, and plant a gentle kiss on your cheek. I see you smile and I pull back once again.

"Are you awake?" I whisper, squinting against the dark.

"I am." You say, rolling over and propping yourself on an elbow, "I'm sorry about how I acted. There isn't a proper reason for it. In fact, there are too many reasons for it. They are selfish. And I acted as such. I only don't want to be without you, love. That's all." You tell me honestly. I can see your dark eyes, so oddly bright against the shadow of the room.

"Oh, Bella…you won't be without me." I promise, "I don't plan on it anyway." There is a stretch of silence between us before you respond.

"But, what if there comes a nice young thing that sweeps you off your feet? What if you and I are found out? I worry that us being together will cause a fuss. That you'd be safer if-"

"Don't, Bella. Please." I say, cutting you off. I can't bear the thought of losing you, not again.

I lean in, kissing you full on the lips. Hoping this gesture will ease you as it eases me. I feel your hand come up and cup my cheek and a tingle runs from my throat to my groin. I let out a sigh as you take my bottom lip in between your teeth, biting gently. You have the blanket tucked under your arms, so to my lovely surprise, when my hand snakes underneath the sheet, my fingers find the warmth of your naked flesh. I let my fingertips feather over you; your thighs, hips, waist…where they settle on your lower back. I've lost myself to the feeling of you. I find the only thing I can think about, is the sensation of you on me. The aroma that is us; it is sweet and subtle but it makes my stomach flutter. We carry on, touching, kissing, until the sky starts to lighten with the promise of day. There is no point in going back to sleep, seeing as we leave at day break. I allow myself to roam your body, traveling down your neck and biting gently as I go. Like always it seems, as I pull away the blanket to reveal your bare chest, there comes a knock upon our door.

"Leaving in fifteen, Hermione!" Ginny calls, walking down the length of the hall. Her footsteps can be heard as she descends the staircase and I look to you. You smile seductively, pulling me into one last heated kiss.

"Go on then. I'll be here when you return." You promise, pulling the blanket and tucking it back under your arms. I let out a sigh, frustrated that we didn't have more time. I crawl from our bed and dress myself. I freshen in the bathroom, running cold water over my face and pulling my unruly hair into a low ponytail, uncaring of how I look. It is far too early for maintenance.

When I enter the living room, I see the group seated around the table in the kitchen. Molly is dishing a simple breakfast of porridge and tea and I take mine, eating quickly. I had had a slight headache but it faded the instant the warm meal hit my stomach. When we are finished, Molly speaks out.

"Now that…You Know Who is dead, we needn't worry about transportation anymore. We can use the Floo again! Do you have everything? Ron, you have the money I gave you? Ginny, dear, Ron will keep hold of the money. No worries, I didn't forget you." She says in a flurry. Weeks ago, Harry and I had made a quick trip with Arthur to Gringotts, just in case we had decided to go back to Hogwarts. We would need the proper coin if were to afford our supplies.

Ron volunteers to enter first, grabbing a handful of the brown powder, with bright green flames twisting and licking up his sides. Quickly, he shouts his destination, throwing the Floo powder at his feet. In a flash he is gone with Ginny standing in his place. Harry goes after with me to follow. I feel the familiar twist and turn, unable to make sense of my swirling position. It is dark and then darker, until finally things begin to clear. My stomach flips and I am happy when it was over. I shoot out the Floo and into the Leaky Cauldron. No one notices the four of us, standing soot covered in front of the bar. The people continue to drink and eat and talk without a flinch. People are beginning to find that normality again, the one that had been torn away and kept hidden for so long. It is nice not to see even an ounce of panic on these faces. They are at ease again and it felt briefly, when I exhaled, that the weight of everything and nothing seemed to lighten. I can breathe just a little easier.

I think briefly though, that if people catch sight of Harry that there will be an outbreak of celebration. And as much as I believe he deserves it, for the final kill of our worst enemy, I don't think any of us want to sit through it. We are tired and as for Harry, he'd spent a great deal of his life under the spot light. I am sure he wouldn't want the attention. I make way to him, pulling him gently by the sleeve.

"C'mon. You don't want to be seen, it'll cause too much chaos right now." He nods and the rest follow me as I turn toward the back, heading for the door. Harry taps the bricks in the correct pattern, opening the entrance into Diagon Alley.

I remember the first time I set foot in Diagon Alley, standing excitedly next to my Mum and Dad. They were excited too, confused, bewildered and overwhelmed. I felt I was living in a dream, that surly in a moment's time I would be shaken awake by my mother's hand but it never happened. Sometimes, when things are too good, like when I'm resting next to you, my stomach tightens with fright, thinking it is only a matter of time before I am shaken awake. I am surprised to find that Diagon Alley is back to its original state; it looks as it did during my first visit. Excited, smiling children laugh and run alongside their parents, picking out cats or owls. Carrying books and cauldrons and brooms. Wearing robes of houses they hope to be sorted into. The streets are bright and full of color. There isn't broken glass and shadows, it is free of black hooded figures waiting to take away your wand and throw you indefinitely into Azkaban.

We look to each other, smiles matching those of the children. Our world is slowly, but surely returning to how it was meant to be and for the first time, that dawning feeling has left me. I am happy just be normal again, and free of a life and death battle.

Each of us have similar lists in our letters but they differ just enough that we all separate, planning to meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour's time. Then we'd treat ourselves at Florean Fortescue's before returning home.

I decide to visit Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary. I'd need and array of herbs and roots if I am to survive my seventh year. It doesn't take long before I have gathered all the necessary items on my list and have paid the shopkeeper. I then go to get new robes. Mine are long gone, and if I could ever relocate them, I'm sure they'd be littered with tears and burns.

I stand quietly on a stool as Madam Malkin pins the fabric in the proper places. I ordered two of them and set out again. I have only twenty minutes left before needing to meet the other's at the bookshop. I hurry to Scribbulus Everchanging Inks, filling my arms with inks, quills and parchment before feeling content with my purchases.

I push open the door with one hand, the other carrying bag after bag. The little bell rings and I find the group already inside. I walk to them, their backs to me. Harry turns, looking to me with dull green eyes and a sad face. "What is it?" I say, pushing through. Along the left wall, next to the staircase that leads to the upper level are a handful of posters. They are WANTED posters.

Thorfinn Rowle

Nott SR

Lucius Malfoy

Crabb SR… A few others I don't recognize and lastly, there is you, growly furiously and screaming at me. I can feel the blood drain from my face. The others say nothing but turn away as casually as they can. I remain, looking at your ferocious face and wondering if it was a gimmick or if that anger was true and if so, for what reason.

"Did you see any more of these in the other shops?" I whisper to them.

"They are sprinkled here and there. I saw one for Bella in 2nd Hand Brooms", Ginny says quietly.

"And one for Malfoy and Crabb in the Junk Shop." Ron adds, a neat stack of his books already tucked under his arm.

"Here," Harry pipes, handing me a stack that he'd grabbed from the tables edge, "I got these for you, for the classes we share. You only need a couple more that I don't have." He says, trying a small smile. I thank him and take my books, quickly gathering the others I need. Usually, I'd take the time to look around, seeing what new books had come out but not this time. All I want is to buy and leave. But I know the group probably wants to visit Florean Fortescue's for ice cream. Just to top off what was supposed to be a great day…but ice cream is the least of my concerns. All I want is to return to you. I felt you already slipping from my grasp…And I was certain now, that no one outside our family could know about us. You'd be taken away in an instant, and I can assume I would too…for fraternizing with the enemy.

I pay my cost and return to the others. As I expect, Ron leads the way to the ice cream parlor. But I am barely aware. I order nothing and say very little while they eat. I hear reassuring words but they don't quite penetrate my sleeping ears.

I drop my things in the middle of the living room and run two at a time up the stairs, leaving a cloud of soot behind me. Before I reached the landing, I can already hear the others filling in one another about the posters. It came to no surprise to them and neither to me but to see it was different than guessing I could expect it. I tear open the door to our room. You are not there. I give a loud huff, not wanting to play an unnecessary game of Find Bella. When I return downstairs, I look to the rest.

"Where is she?"

"I believe I saw her leave about a half hour ago." Molly says, inhaling to deliver another thought but I run passed and through the door. You aren't on the shore, so that could only leave one place. I waste no time in running sloppily over the uneven sand, until I reach the hill. I climb it, breathing heavily and to my relief find you seated underneath our tree. You eyes are closed, hand placed gingerly in your lap with a sweetest smile gracing your face. I hate to interrupt that. But I know I have no choice.

You don't stir as I approach. Just carry on smiling.

"Bella…" I say, the words seem to catch in my throat. One eye opens and looks up at me, then the other opens and you sit up, happy to see me. I drop down to my knees, taking your hand.

"Bella," I say again, watching as your brow furrows.

"What is it, love? What's wrong?" you ask, trying to decipher my expression.

"You were right….you were right about it all…they are looking for you…posters, Bella. Everywhere…."

What does that mean for us? What will happen if and when others find out about us? When will they forget about you and the awful things you've done? How can we show the rest of the Wizarding World that you aren't those vile actions…that you didn't have a choice if you wanted to live? Isn't it true that in most of us, the will to live is the strongest; that the body and the mind will usually do whatever it takes to survive? How can you be blamed?…You were only trying to survive…


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you! :D **

**To imperfectionisoverrated- I totally get where you are coming from, and in a perfect HP world, I would agree. But my reasons for taking Bellatrix so out of character is because the character we know, is in fact, not what she is (at least in my warped little piece of JK's world). Her acting as Bella might, I feel would be wrong for this story, only because she isn't what she portrays. But, I love the memory idea and I might actually use that if you don't mind. Of course, all credit would go to you and I hope my OOC Bella isn't too much of a turn off…perhaps, I will throw in a bit of the psycho we all love, just for fun…just to spice things up a bit **

**P.S you've all been so supportive of my lack of smut…Well, I'm not too good at it but I thought I'd give you a little more detail this time. Enjoy. **

**Part 4- The Dream**

I can't quiet explain it. Standing next to the others- Harry, Ginny and Ron- like nothing ever happened, as if our friends and family hadn't died in a battle worth dying for. I feel as though time has catapulted us backward, but without my consent, without the power of the Time Turner and its promise to return back to our normal place in time. I feel aged and as we stand together, a perverted sort of feeling washes over me; as if it is wrong that I stand amongst children, on the same journey, to the same place. I don't feel right about it. We've lived through, it seems, countless tragedies and returning to school, a place for young people to learn and to grow, feels beneath me. Not that I am better than, but rather that I simply do not belong anymore, that maybe Hogwarts has nothing left to teach. What could it possibly prepare me for that I haven't already experienced firsthand?

The entire family decided to join. Almost the entire family…Molly wipes her tears on a thin, white handkerchief while Arthur looks to us with pride. George looks around awkwardly, hands deep in his pockets; the twins never were right for school. Fleur and Bill stand hand in hand, waiting behind Molly and Arthur, smiling and saying nothing. It is all very picturesque, the way one would imagine it would look. But I can't shake this awful feeling. My hands begin to sweat and the large, red train with its billowing smoke sounds its horn. This is it. Time to board.

We load our things, and with one last hasty goodbye, the four of us step inside. The train lurches and we walk down the familiar hallway, looking for any open compartment. Finally, we see one, somewhere in the middle. We take it and close the door. There isn't much talking between us, I can assume we all feel the same about returning. We know it is necessary, that we are still young and still in need of a proper education but one cannot help _feel_ like it isn't the same. I wonder if we'll see the faces of our surviving friends. The ones we grew up with, fought next to. Did they feel the need to return too?

I watch the world whizz by, meshing into a muddy complexion of greens and browns and blue. The window in the compartment already accumulating condensation from the crisp September morning. I look to my hands, willing the tightness in my chest to go away. With each mile, it gets worse and I know it is because we are so far away from one another.

"Hermione?" Harry says, leaning over his legs. My eyes snap up, looking into bright green eyes, "Did you want anything? Are you hungry?" He asks, standing to meet the grey haired witch with the trolley full of goodies.

"No, I'm fine."

To pass the time, I close my eyes and think of you. I know it was the right choice but in this moment it is greatly regretted. I fall into an unsteady sleep but it is welcomed because I dream of us, and our last night together and I wonder if there might be a smile upon my face.

_It was late, we had eaten hours ago and the majority of the house had gone to bed. I was growing tired but fought it, not wanting to waste my time with you on sleep. _

"_You're tired," you said, smiling. We had decided to stay downstairs, next to the fire; no wonder I was sleepy. _

"_No," I said, "just thinking about resting my eyes." _

_ I heard a giggle, it was light and feathery, "Well, how should we keep you awake then?" you asked, poking me gently in the side. I lifted my head from its resting spot on the sofa's arm. _

"_That's a good question…" I responded, flashing you a drowsy smile. _

"_C'mon, love. I have an idea." You rose from the sofa and walked toward the door._

"_What are you doing, Bella? It's late and dark..." I said, sitting up. The warmth of the fire hit my right side. It was so nice, so cozy. I didn't want to leave it to be outside in the cold. _

"_Just come on, would you? You won't regret it," you teased as you opened the door and stepped out. I sat a moment, in thought, wondering if it would be worth it. Finally, after realizing you were not going to return, I got up and made my way from the comforts of the cottage and into the elements. _

_ It had been a warm summer and even though fall was its way, it was still warm. I was happy to find that I didn't need a jacket. It was so dark, and for a moment, I couldn't see you but then my eyes adjusted and then went exceedingly wide as I realized you were naked, standing ankle deep in the ocean. I looked behind me than ran down the rickety stairs and onto the sand. I ran until I could see the front of the cottage and I looked for the yellow of a light, indicating that there were others awake inside. But there were none, all were asleep and I let out a sigh of relief. _

"_Bella!" I called in a hoarse whisper, "Come back here, you don't want to be seen!" but you could not hear me. You looked over your shoulder and your shadowed face, I could tell, wore a devilish grin. I let out a sigh but not one of frustration. I was in fact quite anxious at what it was you had planned for us. I walked to you and when I finally met you I extended my arm. _

"_Bella, come on. What are you doing?" I asked, keeping my feet out of the way of the rising tide. _

"_The moon is out, love." You said, "It is a special night. For one moment, let go of your reserve. No one will see you…no one save for me…" _

_ It was tempting. Your deliciously naked form, as pale as the moon above us but it felt unnatural- to be outside and without clothes. Nudity was for love making and maintaining hygiene, not for outdoor adventures. _

"_Hermione…" you taunted, turning toward me. Your full breasts, which sat beautifully on your chest, got the better of me. Before I knew what I was doing, I was already undressing. _

"_There you go, love," You walked from the water and soundlessly over the sand, to me. It was cold now, without the protection of my clothes. I looked to you as I stood vulnerably in my underwear. Your arms wrapped around my middle and slithered upward, feathering like whispers up my back to my bra. When you had successfully removed that, your fingers hooked under the thin elastic of my panties, sliding them down and over my hips where they too fell silently to the sand. _

_ Obviously, I had been naked with you before. But when we were intertwined in our bed, in the dark, in a soundproof room, I felt safe and comfortable; outside it was different and even though I knew we were alone I couldn't help but feel there were a thousand eyes on me, each one with its own judging opinion of us and our bodies. _

_ I felt your lush lips on mine and it was then that I knew what you really had planned. _

"_Out here?...Really?" I asked, pulling away, "…But, it's all sandy and cold…" I said mostly to myself. You let out an airy chuckle; it raised goosebumps on my skin. I love your laugh, so full and confident._

"_Come then, I'll find a more suitable place." You took my hand and led me down the shore, to that hill, where you stopped under the dense shadow of our tree. _

"_This better, love?" you asked, pulling me close. But I never did have the opportunity to answer before your lips were on mine again. Usually, our romps consisted of equal participation but this time, I didn't think that would be the case. You were quick to whirl me around, so that my back was pressed against the harsh bark of the tree. You were gentle of course, and I didn't mind; especially, when your teeth began to nibble down the flesh of my neck. _

_ We were far from the ears of another and you knew just what I liked to get the reaction from me that pleased you. I felt your tongue slide up my throat, biting down and sucking. I let my fingers tie into your black mane as you tore at my neck. Is it odd that pain arouses me? For some reason, I find this out of character for my usual day to day self. One would think after years of pain, I'd prefer to stray from such things but it is in you that I find my inner monster. Whether that is a good or bad thing, I am still uncertain. _

_ I let myself go and vocalized all that I found pleasurable. You moved along; your hands holding my waist, keeping steady my shaking legs. Your tongue, one of my favorite parts of your body, licked down my stomach, teasing the flesh above my groin. I let my hands rest on your shoulders, digging in my fingernails. I am sure by the time you've reach me that I had drawn blood. I knew you wouldn't mind, in fact, I was sure you were aching for it. _

_ There was an assortment of noises and to my ears they sounded like a song, a new song; one that had been freshly written and sang raw without care of perfecting the finer details. That's what it is about, right? Love- To be free and willing; to have disregard for rules? To care not of flaw but instead, to find the beauty in it? For all I knew, we sounded like a bad accident but if you really come down to it, we are and I am okay with that. _

_ I let my head fall back against the tree, eyes tightly closed and breathing heavily. I could feel my knees wobbling and I knew it wouldn't be long before I dropped to the ground. You sensed this and removed your mouth from me, standing and moving in closer. It didn't bother me when you kissed me, the delicate taste of me on my lips. But they were soon back on my neck, and I knew at that point I'd have to find a scarf to wear in the morning. You let out a sigh of pleasure as your hand tickled down my thigh and hooked under my knee, bringing my right leg to wrap around your waist. It was all so exciting, liberating, to be in your control, to be outside…the thrill of being caught. It fired me up, more than I like to admit. I let out a soft cry, feeling your fingers find their way to me. I could have kept going, crying out and egging you on but instead, you found you'd rather fill your lungs with them. Your kiss was hard, passionate, needy and I kept your pace as best as could. I was almost numb, numb with the fire that burnt inside. My hands scratched down your porcelain back, leaving red tracks from shoulder to buttock and I could hear the madness in your moan. _

_ At first, your rhythm was smooth, the better to build me up with but when my breaths started to come out short and rushed, you knew it was time to speed up. It didn't take long for my release at that point. I pulled you in tighter, crying out for all to hear. To be honest, at the time, I didn't even realize where I was. The fact that we were outside, at night, mere yards away from the cottage did not even enter my mind. Your smell, the taste of your sweat on my lips, your warm, sweet breath; that was all that filled my senses, for that was all I cared about in that moment. _

_ I was tired. I could have slept away forever under our tree, with only you to keep me warm. But that wasn't an option. When you pulled out of me, kissing me tenderly on the lips, you took my hand and led me back to our pile of clothes on the beach. We dressed silently and made way back into the protection of our home; walking lightly up the stairs and into our room, where we fell exhausted into our bed. We did not stir until a harsh knock came upon our door at the wee hours of the morning. My things had already been packed the day before and I would wash at the last moment. I spent the last few minutes in your arms, listening to your steady heartbeat and trying to ignore the cries of pain from my aching body. But regret it I did not, that much you had assured me…_


End file.
